Until You're Mine Again
by boxofpiglets
Summary: A bit of fictional goodness like you've NEVER read before! This is going to be a full on angsty romantic ride.
1. Chapter 1

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter 1

* * *

"Get me another straw nub."

"You have five right there!"

"Did I ask how many I already had? No! now go get me another straw Benson!"

With a long suffering sigh Freddie Benson turned and grabbed another straw from the counter behind him, pausing and grabbing another three just in case Sam demanded another one in the near future. Turning back to said blonde he handed her the straws and watched with unconcealed amusement as she shoved all eight straws into her smoothie and attempted to drink through all of them at once. She didn't quite manage it and glared at him as though for all the world it was his own fault. He answered with a smile and checked his phone again.

He and Sam had been sitting at the Groovy Smoothie for the past hour, waiting for Carly to finish her after school tutoring program and join them, and he had just bought Sam her third smoothie and was quickly getting worried about the contents of his wallet. He and Sam may have grown up and leaned to act civil, almost friendly towards one another, but she still hadn't grown into carrying her own damn wallet around.

"Get me another straw."

"You can't even drink from those!" He burst out incredulously, before shutting up because somehow she had managed to actually drink from them all.

"Please Freddie?" She nearly purred, fluttering her eyelashes at him in a way that was so unlike Sam that it shocked Freddie into turning and grabbing her another straw. Sam had discovered how beautiful she was and her effect on boys at their graduation party and she thoroughly enjoyed playing with her new toy: flirting with unsuspecting boys to the point that they get so nervous they drop what ever it was that they were holding as she and Freddie laughed cruelly. Freddie watched her attempt to fit nine straws in her mouth and manage to drink through all nine with a smirk as he sent another text to Carly, telling her to hurry up before Sam tried to maneuver any more straws into her poor smoothie.

* * *

Spencer looked around with furrowed eyebrows as he tried to locate where the hell that irritating ring was coming from. After checking all his pockets he was struck by a random idea and walked over to the island to check the cookie jar. Nestled inside was Carly's phone, ringing happily as it announced that she had three new messages from Freddie.

"Carly!" He called up the stairs at his little sister.

"What?" Came her less than patient reply.

"You've got a new message from Freddie!" He answered, hitting the flashing green "read" button on the screen of her pear phone. "It says to hurry up before Sam takes all the straws at the Groovy Smoothie!" He stopped and stared at the message. Straws?

"Tell him I'll be right there!" she called before he heard the roar of her blow dryer and decided further attempts at communication would be pointless. He shrugged and dropped the phone back into the jar, turning back to the sculpture he was currently working on.

"Well well Mr. Mustard." He addressed the giant jar of mustard in front of him. "Looks like your ready for another coat of paint." He dipped both his hands in the bucket of yellow paint at his feet and began to smear it all over the jar.

"Now that looks as good as a monkey with a Saturn sized strawberry!" Came an excited voice from his left. Spencer suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He thought Reuben was great for helping him wire all the stuff that needed wiring with the sculpture, but holy chizz the boy drove him crazy with his odd manner of speaking. He forced a pained smile at the teenager before turning back to his work.

"I mean, King Neptune would have a robot time measuring up to that banana!" Reuben reiterated, eyes the sculpture with appraisal.

"Weren't you going somewhere?" Spencer snapped at him, reminding him that he was supposed to be headed to the top floor to get him another cable.

"You got it top watermelon." Reuben answered with a salute and a goofy smile before stepping into the elevator and hitting the button, keeping his goofy smile until the doors shut.

Spencer finally did roll his eyes and wiped his yellow hands on his jeans, giving his sculpture another critical glance before bending and picking up the smoke machine Socko managed to get him. He plugged it in and flipped the switch with a flourish, waiting for the smoke to come pouring out.

Nothing.

He scowled and flipped open the hatch to check the fluid, his irritation climbing when he saw that it was out of fluid. He looked around, locating the bottle and giving it an experimental shake.

Empty.

He looked around, forcing his creative mind to get, well…creative. His eyes landed on a bottle of vegetable oil and a grin split his face. Of course. He lopes over and unscrews the lid, his mind whirling with giddiness at how cool this was going to be. He snatched the bottle and filled the machine, switching it on as he fed the tubes into the large jar of mustard. He stood back and admired the nearly finished sculpture when-

The air exploded.

He knew what was going to happen the split second before it did, he saw the thick black smoke leak from the machine and the sparks and then he couldn't see, just feel the blinding, fiery and unbearable pain as he felt as though liquid flames had landed on him. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe, his skin was being torn from him and he felt his lungs scream in agony as each breath he attempted to pull in to scream was assaulted with the flames that were now engulfing his body. The pain. Was unlike anything he had ever-

Spencer Shay was dead when he fell forward and hit the flaming inferno that was the giant mustard statue, still wet with its alcohol based paint. The giant sculpture fell forward and hit the doors of the elevator, which buckled under the weight of the metal and screeched open. The entirety of the bottom floor of the Shay apartment is in flames. The sculpture fell through the open doors of the elevator, falling sixteen floors and sending flames all along the elevator shaft that was quickly filling with smoke.

* * *

Reuben was still smiling goofily when the elevator came to a screeching halt, shaking him and scaring the grin off his face.

What the soccer ball?

Forcing himself not to panic, he tries the emergency open button, nothing. He paces, cursing the fact that he left his cell phone downstairs with Spencer. He looks around for a way out. He notices a hatch on the roof, but decides against it.

He's still contemplating an escape route or waiting for maintenance when the elevator gives an almighty screech and the car drops five feet, sending Reuben toppling to the floor. The doors have inched open and thick black smoke comes pouring into the car. Rueben tucks his face into his shirt and coughs, clutching the wall when the elevator drops another foot. Still coughing, Rueben wait's a second before standing, only to be thrown back onto the floor when the flames finally burn through the cable and the elevator car falls twenty stories before finally landing with an earsplitting crash and explodes in a flaming explosion that sends Lewbert flying into the opposite wall and sending shards of wood and metal into the body of Marissa Benson who fell to the ground, dead as the lobby of Bushwell Plaza is filled with flames and smoke.

* * *

Carly Shay never found out that her brother or her high school friend or her best friends mother had died while she was busy curling her hair. She didn't think it odd that she couldn't stop coughing either. She had been sick recently after all. She didn't know why she was getting so dizzy and disorientated, or why her vision was going fuzzy, just as she had no reason to suspect as she crashed to the floor, dead from smoke inhalation that her brother had just set half of Bushwell plaza on fire.

* * *

"Has she answered you?" Sam asked as she now had a record thirteen straws stuck into her smoothie cup.

Freddie spared her a chuckle as he checked his phone. Nothing from Carly, or his mother, which was strange within itself.

"Nope." He answered. In truth he wasn't altogether worried about Carly's absence. As he found himself falling harder and harder for Sam he was savoring these moments where he could pretend he had a chance with her

"Eh, she'll get here when she's ready I guess." He answered with a smile.

She actually smiled back at him, warmly and so prettily that it sent shivers down his back and she leaned forward over the table, and he leaned forward automatically, his heart pounding as her mouth opened and-

"Get me another straw."

* * *

Freddie couldn't breathe. His head swam and his eyes burned with tears he wouldn't allow to fall. the blood is pumping loud in his ears and drowns out the awful sound of the ministers voice as he speaks words that Freddie cant handle hearing as he stares at the three white coffins lined up side by side in the cemetery. He can feel himself shaking and he wants nothing more than to scream and run as fast as he can in the opposite direction so he can feel the pain he's painstakingly holding at bay. The only thing keeping him still is the tiny hand clutched in his, the tiny hand belonging to the tiny blonde girl beside him who he knew was the only one in the fucking crowd who knew anything resembling what he felt.

He doesn't remember the past week very well.

He remembers finally leaving the Groovy Smoothie with Sam, feeling on top of the world because he had flung an arm over her shoulders in a friendly joke and she hadn't thrown him off, allowing him to walk with her that way. He remembers her stopping dead in her tracks as they turned the corner of the street that would lead him home and the look on her face- the look of complete horror as- and he remembers turning and seeing the building where he grew up with flames spilling out the front doors and smoke billowing out of the higher windows. He remembers her taking off running towards the flaming building and he remembers following her.

He doesn't remember the police man catching him around the shoulders as he attempted to breach the building. He doesn't remember the loud screams of the flames and the shouts of those around him. He doesn't remember fighting with all his might to break free of the strong arms of the police man as he held him back, doesn't remember screaming _Carly _and _Mom _at the top of his lungs. doesn't remember finally passing out and slumping in the arms of the police man onto the side walk with the soundtrack of Sam sobbing in his head.

He remembers the look of pain and empty sorrow that passed over Sam's face when they told them that Carly and Spencer didn't make it. He remembers how he felt the earth stop spinning when they told him that his mother hadn't made it either. He remembers Sam taking him in her tiny arms and he remembers throwing them off and running. He doesn't remember where he ended up. But he does remember waking up in a police car with Sam sobbing next to him. He remembers pulling her to him and letting her cry into his shoulder as he wets her blonde curls with his own tears. He remembers whispering things to her, telling her that he would never leave her. That she would never lose him. She would always have him.

He doesn't remember how he got through that week. The only thing he can think of is watery blue eyes and the nightmares. He doesn't remember putting on his suit and he doesn't remember how he ended up holding Sam's hand as he watched person after person drop roses on top of the coffins of Carly, Spencer and his mother.

He cant do it. He freezes when he steps forward to place his own three roses and cant move and is an inch away from screaming when he feels tiny fingers pry the flowers from his hands and he watched Sam place them on the caskets. He panics when he feels her hand leave his. He's barely let her out of his sight this past week. She turns and he recaptures her hands and they watch as the bodies of their best friends and his mother are lowered to the ground. Her quiet sobs start up again and a few stray tears leak down his face. He tightens his hold on her.

He doesn't notice when the other people have dispersed and its just him and Sam standing at the gates of the cemetery. He's holding her close. He's waiting for his dad, who, even though Freddie was eighteen and was legally an adult was going to allow him to stay with him and his new wife until Freddie could support himself. She's waiting for her mother, who thinks a few weeks away from Seattle will calm her daughters grieving heart.

He holds her in a hug with a hand on her back and the other in her hair. Her face is buried in his shoulder and they don't speak. Just hold on for dear life.

Her mother honks and she looks up at him, sorrow heavy in her beautiful blue eyes. He doesn't think twice before leaning down and capturing her mouth with his as he tangles his hands in her hair. She responds immediately, pressing her body against his and throwing her arms around his neck. Her mouth opens and their tongues meet and it becomes a violent struggle for dominance, a competition of who could devour each other more. The kiss is violent and raw, tears running down both of their faces as they allow all of their emotions into that single kiss. They break apart and he leans his forehead on hers. Her eyes are closed and her lips are swollen and her face is wet. Her eyes flutter open and a faint attempt at a smile that fails miserably flints across her face.

"I'll see you soon Freddie."

He doesn't answer. Just presses another gentle kiss to her mouth before watching her walk to her mothers car, her hand raised in farewell as the car leaves.

He didn't know it would be another seven years before he saw her again.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter 2

* * *

"Excuse me sir, we're going to be landing soon, and I'm going to have to take that."

Freddie jumped and smacked his head against the window of the plane he had fallen asleep against. He handed his untouched mug of cold coffee to the overweight stewardess with a tightlipped smile. She took it and showed him her crooked teeth before carefully maneuvering her way back down the rest of the isle.

Freddie sighed and ran a hand through his hair that he knew was hopelessly messy by now. The sign at the front of the cabin went off and he fastened his seatbelt. He hated airplanes. He hated this plane. He hated his overweight stewardess and he hated how the plane shook when they took off and he hated the fat bastard who snored through half the crappy movie and he hated the loud child that screamed through most of the ride and he hated the crappy coffee and he hated how the damn plane wouldn't stop shaking as they landed in Chicago.

Forty five fucking minutes later Freddie finally found his car parked at the far end of the airport parking lot where he had left it the Friday before. He had only been gone for three days, as opposed to the week he had anticipated and still some little twat found the time to write _wash me _on the back of his car.

With a sardonic smirk he wrote _fuck you _on the back of his own car.

He should have known that traffic would be at a standstill. Of course it would. But it didn't really matter to Freddie. The ride calmed him down sufficiently. Kris was always telling him he was too stressed out.

He reached out and turned on the radio. And a small sad smile graces his face. Albeit it's sad, but it's the first true smile he's smiled in a while.

It's an ancient Cuddle Fish song that reminds him of blonde hair, the smell of spray paint and being seventeen. He's heard this song several times in the past seven years and it always made him smile.

Fourteen songs and one middle finger later Freddie finally pulled up into his drive way. He looked up at his tiny house that he and Kris bought when they first got married a couple years ago. It wasn't bad, it wasn't amazing, but it offered him a sense of stability that he's been craving inexplicably for the past god knows how long. Parking his car, he hauls himself out and pauses. There's a shiny red car in the street.

With a frown, Freddie switches directions and heads to the alley between their house and the next. Their bedroom window is open. He leans down and presses his ear against the screen.

"Oh fuck yes…ooh yeah right there…Ah! Yes yeah oh god harder!"

_Again_?

For most men, the sounds of your wife being fucked by someone who wasn't you would be crushing, and her drunken slurs of pleasure would set you on fire. The only thing Freddie felt was exasperation because he couldn't go home yet.

With a long suffering sigh he got back into his car and backed out, not bothering to sneak. If she didn't hear him come she wouldn't hear him leave.

He drove until he found himself at a bar he frequented whenever Kris brought one of her "friends" home with her. He tiredly made his way inside and took his usual spot at the end of the bar. The ancient bartender spotted him and slid over.

"Hey there Fredman!" Freddie didn't return his grin. "The usual?"

Freddie nodded and gratefully downed the shot of vodka the bartender set in front of him before lifting the tankard of beer to his mouth. He wasn't a drinker. He only drank when Kris…. Was Kris.

When he had first met Kris, he had fallen for her immediately. He had been studying in the library when she sauntered in wearing a tiny skirt and cowboy boots and had promptly thrown a tantrum demanding why the café in the library didn't carry fat cakes. He had stared after her when she finally stormed out and made his feet move. He followed her up to the science building and finally caught up with her before she went in and tapped her on the shoulder nervously. She had spun around, all flying blonde curls and wide blue eyes and he offered her the fat cake he had in his pocket. She had stared at him for a second before grinning and snatching the fat cake out of his hand at the same time she pulled a sharpie out of the pocket of her hoodie.

She had taken his hand, flipped it over and scrawled something before tearing into the fat cake and running up the stairs that led up to the science building. He had looked down and read _867-5309 Kris _with a heart dotting the I. He had looked up to see her wink at him before disappearing into the building.

He had called her that night, and they ended up sleeping together a week later, then breaking up two weeks later after a violent fight, only to make up three weeks later when they ran into each other at a party and she pulled him into a closet to show him just how sorry she was about the fight they had the previous week. The next three years were a happy blur. She reminded him of someone he refused to think about but instead shamelessly allowed Kris to take the place of. When he graduated and she dropped out, they ran away to Vegas to get married, as Freddie had no family to invite to anything formal.

He really didn't know when his beautiful wife had turned into the alcoholic bitch she was today, or when she began to venture out into the rest of Chicago to find herself pleasure elsewhere when he was away, but when he had first walked in on her and a ridiculously endowed man in his room he strangely wasn't pissed. And he never was for the next twenty or so times he had caught her. He learned after awhile that he didn't give a flying fuck what Kris did. As long as she never got rid of her blonde curls and blue eyes and the few times they fucked nowadays he could pretend he was someone else he didn't want to think about, she could do whatever the hell she felt like.

He raised his hand, signaling the bartender for another drink. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Thanks again Jeanie." Sam said as she walked past the check-in desk at the clinic.

"No problem Samantha." Jeanie said with a sympathetic smile. "See you again next week."

Sam froze. Seven years ago, she would have spun around and let that little brat have it. Now, she sighed and shook her head before leaving. Jeanie was a bitch, but she was right. She probably would see her again next week. Hell she might see her again later that night.

She sat in her car in the parking lot for a few more minutes before driving home, twisting her hair in her fingers and flipping down her review mirror. She peeled off the bandage the doctor had put on her face and eyed her cheek critically. The bruise was darkening rapidly; her left eye was bloodshot and swelling. She sighed and dug through her purse for her make up. Make up was her best friend these days.

She opened the tiny jar and began to apply the thick paste to the bruise, rubbing ferociously to cover up the purple despite the needles that shot into her face with each touch.

She continued to apply the makeup until her face was a little swollen but was all the same color. She put away the make up and blearily put the car into drive and pulled away from the clinic. She was always at this damn clinic.

_I ran into a door._

_I was hit with a baseball while playing with my sister._

_I fell down the stairs._

Sam snorted at her reflection in her review mirror as she remembered today's excuse. That would be hilarious to see the doctors face if she knew that Sam lived in a single story house.

No, she thought sardonically as she pulled into the crazy Manhattan traffic, today she deserved this.

"_Sammy?"_

"_What Lucas?" She called from the kitchen of their apartment._

_Lucas appeared in the doorway, holding up a green dress shirt. "Sammy what the hell is this." _

"_It's your work shirt Lucas." She had answered without looking up from the cup of noodles she was eating._

"_Very good…" He said with a patient voice that immediately set her on her guard. She took another bite of her noodles and raised an eyebrow at him._

"_Is there a problem Luc?" she asked him in a voice that used to make Fred-someone she used to know tremble._

"_Yes Sammy there is." he matches her tone. He turns the shirt over and showed her the right sleeve. The world's tiniest wrinkle marred the bottom of the sleeve, just over the button. "I thought I told you to iron it."_

_"I did iron it." She had spat back, abandoning her noodles to snatch the shirt out of his hands. She held it up for him to see." See the rest of its not wrinkled." _

_"Finish it." He said, handing her the ironing board. _

_Her lip curled. "Do it yourself Lucas." She picked up her noodles and made to slip past him. She got three steps out of the kitchen before she felt the pain explode on the back of her head. She fell to her knees and clutched at the back of her head. When the stars had cleared from her vision she could see her fingers coated with blood. _

_"What the fuck Lucas!" She made to get up when she felt the hard metal of the ironing board smack right against her cheekbone. Her head hit the wall and her vision was fogging. She could vaguely hear Lucas' litany of bitch, cunt, whore, useless slut, echoing in her head..._

Sam shook the memory out of her head. She hated when Lucas called her Sammy. She had hated it from the minute they met and she had told him her name was Sam and he insisted on calling her Sammy. But she never dared to correct him. If she was still the girl she had been seven years ago, she would have.

Sam wished she was still tough. She wished she were still mean. She wished she was the same person. But she had no reason to be. The only reason she was ever tough was because Carly wasn't. And Carly needed protection.

But Carly was dead.

Sam brushed away an errant tear as her phone rang. She checked. An email, from her boss at the firm-

_Heh well look at that ladies and germs, a domestic lawyer who's abused by her husband. _

An offer, for a business trip in Seattle.

Sam stomped on the brakes. She was home. There was Lucas, on the porch with a bottle in one hand and a leer on his face. Waiting.

She looked back at her phone.

_Seattle..._

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter 3

* * *

"Seattle?" Kris repeated, tilting her pretty blonde head to the side, fixing him with her wide and vacant blue eyes.

Freddie smiled at her, her naïve expression reminding him of the girl he knew in college for a split second before she frowned and turned back to the empty shell of his wife.

"Yes Kris." He said as he speared another meatball onto his fork, using the voice usually reserved for two year olds. "Seattle. That's in Washington."

"Washington." she repeated again, now chewing on her lip and looking at him as though he was speaking fucking French.

"Yes Kris, Washington. Business meeting, Cartman wants to secure a few more banks on the chain and says I'm the only man for it so, I'm going to be gone for about three days, I'm leaving tomorrow, is that going to be alright Kris?" he offered her a forced smile.

She was either too stupid or too hung over to hide the jarringly obvious glee that lit her up from the inside out as she mentally calculated how far Washington was and just how much she could accomplish in three days alone. Freddie watched her mouth spread into a wide and sick grin before she could stop herself, and she didn't catch herself until Freddie fixed her with an eyebrow raised in question.

"Of course Freddie." she beamed at him with what she thought was a perfectly composed expression.

Freddie gave her a toothy smile laced with sarcasm that he knew she would never understand and turned back to his spaghetti, watching her smile to herself for another second before she went back to picking at her own plate of spaghetti. Of course Freddie knew she would be fine with a couple days to herself. Hell she'd be okay with an hour to herself. Asking her was just a formality now, a charade still played so she would think that he was still blissfully unaware of her extracurricular activities.

She was thrilled, he could see it shine on her face straight through dinner up until they climbed into bed three hours later. Freddie could see her frantically texting on the pear phone he bought her with the broad grin on her once beautiful face, no doubt telling all her "friends" that she would have the house to herself for three days. She never stopped smiling and she even forgot to pretend she wanted to have sex with him tonight. Not that he minded. He always had a problem pretending when she still smelled like someone else.

It was only when she had finally fallen asleep with her back to him that he could stand to be near her. Ignoring the smell of alcohol he reached out to pulled her thin frame close to him. and stroked her luxurious blonde curls. He twisted the yellow strands between his fingers and closed his eyes, letting himself indulge in the memory that never failed to bring tears to his eyes. He could practically feel Sa…her, pressed up against him as they kissed in front of the cemetery, her wet face pressed up against his, her tiny hands clutching at his shoulders and her long, soft hair tangled in his fingers…

With a half sob he tore his fingers free of Kris's hair and rolled over to face the wall. It had hurt on an inhuman level when she never returned to him. It had torn him to pieces when he turned nineteen, twenty, twenty one and he hadn't heard a sound from her. When he ran away to college he had forced all thoughts of her from his mind, and only allowed them to surface when he was in the process of fucking Kris into the mattress and he buried his face in her hair and pretended that she was someone else.

Seattle. He hadn't thought of Seattle since he left and never looked back shortly after he had turned nineteen.

He had to go.

* * *

Sam inhaled deeply, turning away from the television to where Lucas was on the other side of the couch, staring at the screen with un breaking concentration.

"Luc?" She tried, her voice sounding so fucking pathetic it made her teeth hurt. Lucas didn't seem to notice and went on staring at the TV.

"Lucas." She tried again, trying her hardest to keep the edge off her voice. It was still early.

Lucas rolled his eyes and finally deemed her worthy of his attention, turning over to her with a huge put upon sigh. "What Sammy."

Sam lowered her eyes and gritted her teeth so hard her newly mended cheekbone gave a painful twinge.

_Sammy_.

"I'm going to Seattle tomorrow." She said in a rush, raising her eyes to his to gauge his reaction.

He was staring at her with the same dead glazed over look he had most of the time these days. Sam bit her lip, it was always a bad sign when his slanted brown eyes were glassy the way they were. He finally blinked and ran his hand clumsily through his thick brown hair. She remembered how when Mel had met him she had exclaimed how much he looked like Freddie. Sam had cried for two days straight and neither girl mentioned the incident ever again. It took her a second to realize he answered her.

"What" She said, instantly regretting it.

"What the hell you going to Seattle for?" Lucas repeated forcibly, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

She swallowed. "Business." She answered tightly. She learned not to give Lucas too many details when explaining something. It always made him suspicious.

His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head dangerously to the side, his expression laced with malice. "What kind of business?"

"I have to meet with a couple. Nasty divorce, and meet up with a couple of executives…business…" she trailed off, knowing soon she would start to babble.

"Well how long you going to be gone Sammy?" He asked, raising an eyebrow that made him look so much like Freddie she had to lower her eyes and forced herself to remember that it was her husband. No one else.

"three days." she said, inching closer to the other side of the couch and letting her hair fall in front of her profile, hoping he would accept her explanation for once and leave it alone.

No such luck.

"Well Sammy what the hell am I supposed to do here for three days?" he said, leaning back in his chair and turning his burning eyes off of her.

Anger simmered to the surface through the fear that was always there when Lucas was around, and she turned to give him an incredulous look, which he ignored. He was a grown fucking man he could take care of himself for three goddamn days. A retort rose to her mouth before she could silence it.

"Figure it out. Your old enough to take care yourself Lucas."

She could immediately feel the blood drain from her face and for one sick moment she could swear she felt the earth stop fucking turning. Holy shit she was in trouble.

The silence remained tangible for what seemed like an eternity before she chanced a glance up at him. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes were wide with shock. She bit her lip and snapped her head back forward as she saw the open mouthed shock melt into a leer that melted into a smirk that spread over his face as he pushed himself forward in his seat and turned to look at her fully.

"Oh Sammy." He sighed, his tone dripping with remorse that was heavily juxtaposed to the leer that was growing wider by the second.

"What." she spat out through her gritted teeth, firmly keeping her gaze on the television to hide the fear in her eyes.

She didn't hear him get off the couch. She didn't hear him cross the room, she didn't notice him until he was crouched in front of her with her jaw crushed in his beefy hand, forcing her to meet his eyes and sending needles of pain shooting through her cheekbone.

"Your to going to Seattle Sammy." Lucas purred, his smirk more pronounced and his hand tightening on her face. "In fact, I'm going to be surprised if your able to go anywhere for a while."

He flashed her a toothy grin that made him look so _ugly_, and she was forcibly reminded of the condescending smile of a large and sweaty girl named Jocelyn who had hurt Carly, and the tiniest flash of who she used to be shot through her and before she could talk herself out of it she had pulled her hand back and buried her fist in his mouth.

She watched him with morbid fascination as he fell backwards and his hand left her jaw to grasp at his own and she watched him fall in almost slow motion when her mind finally screamed for her to _move _and before he hit the floor she had flung her self off the couch and was stumbling halfway down the hall, her vision swimming with panic and her feet unsure, trained as they were to remain still when Lucas was upset.

_Lucas_.

An outraged howl reached her from the living room and she finally forced her feet to move faster-their room was so close-

"Sammy!" another outraged scream reached her through the fog of panic, closer this time, accompanied by fast and heavy footsteps-

Almost

Almost

_Almost_-

She reached their room just as she felt meaty fingers close around the curls at the back of her head. She yanked her head out of his grip and whirled around to slam the door on his fingers, crushing them in the doorframe.

Another howl of pain and the fingers retraced; and she slammed and locked the door with trembling fingers. She slid down with her back against the door and clutched at her hair and tried to steady her manic breathing, ignoring the banging and screams of rage on the other side of the door.

"Sammy!" Another outraged shriek.

"I'm going Lucas!" she screamed back, lifting herself off the floor and curling up on her side of the bed, watching the door vibrate on its hinges, knowing it wouldn't break. The door was her ally, and it had withheld its composure through fiercer assaults then this.

_Lucas_. She thought as his litany of curses continued. _Stubborn Lucas. _she used to love how stubborn he was, the challenge he would present when they used to argue instead of…how alive he was, how much he had reminded her of Freddie, when he would leap up at any chance he had to argue with her. She remembers how much she had cried when Melanie had said how much he looked like Freddie, and she had cried because she knew her twin sister was right, that she had unconsciously found herself a replacement for the boy she used to love; and through this realization she also realized that she couldn't leave Lucas, even now as her bedroom door gave another shudder and her jaw gave another painful twinge. She needed him.

She needed that stubbornness and those slanted brown eyes.

And Seattle. Her mother hadn't allowed her to return, or contact anyone, for fear that it would shatter her fragile emotional standing. She loved her mother, but she would never understand how she had hurt her, ripped her apart when she told her that she would never see Freddie again.

And now, here was an opportunity to return, not necessarily to Freddie, god knew where he might be now, but to the place that she loved, to the memories of Carly and Spencer and the last time she felt whole and like herself.

She had to go back.

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	4. Chapter 4

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter 4

* * *

Maybe its a new requirement for stewardess's to be fat...Freddie thought as he watched the chubby girl who had taken yet another cold-shit tasting coffee from him try to maneuver her bulk down the thin aisle of the plane to take the no-doubt untouched coffee from the other passengers in his section. The girl turned back to him and sent him a sickening grin, showing him her lipstick stained braces. Freddie quickly averted his gaze back to the window, knowing all too well how lonely fat stewardesses were and how dangerous it was to look for too long

"Attention passengers we'll be landing in Seattle in about 15 minutes so please make sure you have all your belongs with you, fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing."

Freddie's stomach did an unpleasant flip as he reached for his laptop case next to him with suddenly trembling fingers. They would be landing soon… in Seattle. Just thinking of the name made him want to vomit the crappy airline food he had forced down. He was seriously re-thinking this entire business trip. He had no idea what made him think he needed to return in the first place.

He had no one in Seattle. His mother was dead, and his father had followed her not long after Freddie had turned twenty one. It's not like he had Carly, or...

Sam.

Another reason he hated airplanes. His mind always seemed to drift back to the blonde demon that had shoved him out of one when he was fifteen, the blonde demon who he had fallen for, and fallen hard. The blonde demon who he knew deep down was the only reason he had even considered accepting this stupid job, knowing perfectly well how it would fuck with his head.

The only other thing that had called him back was the pathetic nostalgia and the wishful thinking that maybe this would give him some fucking closure. Now that the airport was less than ten minutes away he was seriously re-thinking the entire idea.

Freddie clutched his armrest as the plane began to shake as they landed. He hated airplanes. He stared out the window and watched as the Space needle came into sharper and sharper focus. He forced himself to keep his eyes fixed in the middle, knowing if he let them drift to the right slightly he would see the domineering face of the giant clock of Bushwell Plaza.

He wasn't quite ready for that.

* * *

Sam winced as the plane shook unsteadily as it prepared for landing. Those turbulent vibrations sending shards of pain shooting through her swollen hand. She was sure it wasn't broken, she had broken it before, but it was still horribly swollen and purple, pain shooting through it with each movement.

A parting gift from Lucas.

Still, she considered herself lucky that she managed to get packed and get to the airport with nothing but a fucked up hand. It had taken a great amount of 'sneakiness' on her part to get everything she needed out the window of their bedroom and to her car. Her hand injury resulting from when she had tried to slap Lucas when he appeared out of nowhere, only to have him catch her hand and twist it so hard that something had cracked; it made driving difficult and it hurt to hold the coffee the girl had given her a few minutes ago.

She glanced down at said cup of coffee clutched in her bruised hand and took a tiny sip. She swallowed it with difficulty and made a face at the Styrofoam cup. Crappy ass airline coffee.

She looked past the bony man seated next to her to stare out the window, barely being able to see the familiar landscape that she hadn't seen in years, trying to ignore the taste of grief that was creeping into her throat and threatening tears. Though her mother had disappeared just before her twenty second birthday she had never returned to where she grew up, choosing to stay in New York. She and Mel had rented a tiny apartment until she met Lucas, and after that the idea of leaving anywhere was little more than an idle fantasy.

She also had her unconscious reasons for not wanting to go back. She honestly didn't trust herself. She knew if she would ever go back she would end up killing herself or going crazy from the pain and the grief that she and her mother had spent countless hours and dollars of therapy to eradicate. Or she would go crazy over the memories of Freddie...

She shook her head; she didn't allow herself to think of him. For the first few years she had been a wreck, their first and last honest kiss at Carly's funeral had plagued her every thought and it terrified her. It terrified her that Lucas would somehow notice when he kissed her that it wasn't his slanted brown eyes she was thinking of, and on more than one occasion she had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying out Freddie's name during one of her and Lucas' frequent make up sex sessions.

She finally wrenched her gaze from the window and her thoughts from Freddie. It was dangerous thinking, suppose she did see him, suppose he still loved her... suppose.

No.

With every iota of her sanity she forced herself to stop thinking of him. Instead she stared unwaveringly at the seat belt sign until it flipped on, the vibrations becoming rougher and sending deeper shards of pain through her hand. She gladly focused on the pain in her hand, almost welcoming the distraction.

After a nauseating landing and an annoying wait at the gate she found herself uncomfortably squashed in between two fat tourists complete with Hawaiian shirts at the luggage pickup area. She was listening to their inane chatter about the Space needle, resisting the urge to tell them that the elevator had a weight limit. She settled for giggling under her breath as she waited for her luggage to roll around.

* * *

Freddie scowled as he neared the luggage pickup, knowing by the amount of people crowding around that this wasn't going to be fun. Still scowling moodily he placed himself behind two outlandishly fat tourists in garish Hawaiian garb, gabbing something about the Space needle. He chose instead to focus on the girl squished in between them. She had long blonde curls that reminded him of Kris's hair. A sad smile lit his face. He loved Kris's hair, only because it looked like Sam's, and it was easy to stroke it and allow his thoughts to wander elsewhere.

He shook his head in confusion. He usually never allowed a single thought of Sam to cross his mind, and now they were dancing across his brain as easily as they ever did.

Oh… Seattle.

He considered talking to her, but the idea that she might be something like Kris kept him back. He already had one of '_her_' to deal with.

His gaze was broken when one of the large tourists lost their footing and almost tumbled into him, knocking his laptop to the floor. The fat man's low bellow drowning out the string of four letter words that Freddie let loose. With extraordinarily bad grace he helped the man regain his balance before snatching up his laptop, blatantly ignoring the mumbled and huffed apology the fat guy tried to feed him. Instead he grinned as he watched the blonde girl's shoulders shake as she laughed before she left with her backpack. Freddie turned back to the guy and almost felt sorry for the fat bastard, all sweaty just from falling over. He briefly considered staying for the whole damn apology when he saw his luggage roll into view and at that moment he didn't care if the guy thought he was the rudest person ever. He shouldered past him to snatch his luggage, walking quickly in the other direction.

Still mumbling irritably to himself he left the airport, obsessively checking to make sure his laptop wasn't injured. On his way out he noticed the blonde girl whose hair he had been admiring. She seemed to have dropped her briefcase and was scrambling to get her belongings back together. A task made difficult by the cast on her hand. Freddie stopped for a second, admiring how pretty her hair looked against the white skin of her arms, admiring how much she looked like Sam, her hair was too pretty to belong to Kris. He considered helping her before he remembered how she had laughed when he was assaulted by three hundred pounds of tourist and thought better of it.

Plus, he thought as he passed her, not daring to turn around, he didn't want to mar the memory of this beautiful stranger. He was afraid that all he would see was Kris if he actually saw her face.

He raised his hand, sending a well deserved scowl to the cabs that passed him. One finally stopped, but only after he had flipped off the previous one that passed him. Suddenly exhausted he flopped loosely onto the back seat, mumbling the name of hotel and closing his eyes, not yet wanting to see the rest of Seattle.

* * *

Sam had barely grasped the handle of her backpack when she heard what sounded like a beached whale howl behind her. She had turned around to see the fat tourists behind her crash into a man who looked so much like Lucas, just a bit more built, causing him to drop his laptop and let loose a string of curses that forced her to turn around to hide her laughter. Some of those invectives were quite creative.

Not wanting Lucas's doppelganger to see her laughing at his predicament, she had quickly taken off in the direction of the cabs, her heart thudding as she braced herself for the flood of emotion she knew was inevitable when she would see the landscape she once knew so well.

She had lost track of her footing and had fallen on her injured hand, causing her to lose her grip on her tiny briefcase and sending all it's contents scattering across the floor. Her growl of frustration had drowned out her cry of pain and she hastily began to gather her things back together, biting her lip against the stinging pain in her hand.

She vaguely heard someone stop beside her, for just a second, and then the feet began to move again, passing her by. She looked up to see the guy who the large tourist had crashed into, the one who she thought looked like Lucas, but from this angle he looked more like Freddie... She found herself watching him as he flipped off a taxi before one finally stopped, and she watched him climb inside.

Cute, she thought vaguely, not even offended that he didn't bother helping her up. Considering she had laughed at him when he had been nearly stepped on, why would he help her...? Standing up, she closed her briefcase and took the man's spot, raising her hand to signal for her own taxi.

* * *

Freddie kept his eyes closed the entire taxi ride, ignoring the jerky stops through traffic that he knew was taking them downtown. He only cracked them open when the cabby turned around to announce that they had arrived at his hotel. Freddie sighed, the lead weight of grief settling itself back down on him. The Seattle Hilton. He had only been here once, when his mother had insisted that he accompany her to an aggressive parenting convention. He remembered the spectacular fit he had thrown so he wouldn't have to go with her, going as far as calling Carly and Sam to rescue him.

He sighed. No use regretting things now.

* * *

Sam hadn't had the reaction she was anticipating when the taxi took her further into Seattle. They headed downtown, sticking on I-5. She never used to come downtown, and she didn't recognize the highway. The last time she was on it she was going in the other direction.

She did recognize the hotel they stopped at however. She and Carly had come here when Carly had first gotten her car. They had to pick up Freddie after they had both received irate phone calls about how he was stuck here with his mother.

A sad smile touched her mouth. That particular incident was one of the things that had haunted him most when Marissa had died.

* * *

I hate this hotel, Freddie thought venomously as he nearly choked on the scent of clean dust that refrigerated air conditioners seemed to emanate. He tapped his fingers impatiently, watching the girl behind the desk type in his information; her two stubby fingers abusing her keyboard in a way that made Freddie want to slap her. He gave an affected sigh that would let her know without a doubt that he was in no mood for her dicking around and leaned his elbows on the desk, shooting her a sickly sweet smile when she scowled at him.

The sound of the door opening again drew his attention and he turned, glad for the distraction from the dim receptionist and her infuriating method of typing.

Oh hey.

The blonde girl with the pretty hair from the airport was struggling with her bag, trying to force it over the threshold, her skinny arms heaving it jerkily before she finally managed to get in over the bump, her long hair falling in a pretty wall over her face. When she straightened up and before he could see her face he felt a sharp and pointy poke on the arm that he still had leaning on the desk.

He turned back to the girl to see her holding out a key with a smile dripping with enough sarcasm that even he was intimidated for half a second. He took it from her, reading the number 614 on the tiny card a second before she said anything.

"There you go Mr. Benson, room 614." she said with the air of glee of seeing him go.

He didn't even spare the vapid girl a thank-you before turning to leave, only managing two steps in the other direction before he heard the voice behind him and felt the room crash in around him.

"Freddie?"

* * *

After paying her cab fare she struggled to get her suitcase out of the back, resorting to climbing halfway into the trunk to get it out, ignoring the looks the people standing around gave her. She finally wrestled the suitcase out of the car, popping it onto its wheels and breathing in the clean scent of refrigerated air-conditioning that flourished through the lobby.

She was pulled to a sudden stop and she glanced down impatiently to see the wheels of her bag were caught on the threshold. Stupid fucking door. She cursed under her breath, giving it another punishing tug and finally pulling it over the tiny bump with a jerk. Still glaring at it angrily she stepped up to the line at the reception desk.

Oh hey.

The man she had seen being attacked by that whale of a tourist was standing at the desk, leaning with his elbows on the desk as he talked to the reception girl. God he looked so much like Lucas, she mused, squinting her eyes at the back of the man's head that looked so damn familiar before stepping up behind him. She froze when she was close enough to him. Her senses were suddenly invaded with a scent that she hadn't smelled in…seven years, the heady, spicy scent of-

Cinnamon.

She took a hasty step back, her breath coming in short, staccato pants and her heart thumping in her ears as she listened unbelievingly. The receptionist had handed him his key with what looked like a scowl, and said;

"There you go Mr. Benson, room 614."

Benson?

No. Fucking. Way.

She watching as he took his key and turned to leave, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Freddie?"

* * *

That voice.

It took him a split second to process it. He hadn't heard it in so fucking long, and… no. It was impossible. Im-fucking-possible. He swore he could feel the earth slow on its rotation and the oxygen was suddenly sucked from the room and the edges of his vision blurred before he finally got a grip on himself enough to turn around.

No. Fucking. Way.

The pretty blonde girl from the airport was behind him, staring at him with her mouth open and one hand stilled next to her ear as though she froze in the process of pushing her hair off her face.

But.

It couldn't be her.

But it was. And even as he stared into those blue eyes that have been haunting him since he was fifteen he didn't dare let himself believe it.

He was dreaming he was sure of it. There was no way in hell that she could possibly be here. It couldn't be-

"Sam?"

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	5. Chapter 5

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter Five

She knew she probably looked ridiculous, with her swollen and wrapped hand still by her face in the process of shoving her hair off her forehead and her mouth hanging open like a suffocating fish but she could bring herself to care about how she looked, or to care about the fact that she was holding up the line behind her and the bitchy receptionist was glaring at her; waiting for her to hurry up.

She didn't care because she was almost positive she was going to pass out. It was as though the floor had fallen from underneath her and she continued to stare at him, almost waiting for him to disappear. He could have easily still passed for the eighteen year old she kissed in the cemetery. His hair was still thick and he was so tall, his broad shoulders and arms still laced with the muscles he gained from fencing in high school. The only thing different were his eyes. They were still a deep brown but them seemed sunken, haunted almost, aging them ten years despite the fact that she knew he had just turned twenty five.

He was staring at her in what she imagined was a mirror image of her expression, his mouth open like he was going to speak when-

"Miss? Your holding up the line."

She blinked and turned back to the girl who was glaring at her from under her bushy eyebrows as she tapped her fingernails against the wood of her desk. Her glare kept flicking back between her and Freddie, as though she was convinced that they had conspired together to ruin her day. She raised her hairy eyebrows at her and she moved forward to the desk, shooting glances at Freddie nervously every few seconds to make sure he didn't disappear when she turned around.

"Name?" the girl asked, poising two fingers over her keyboard in a way that made Sam grit her teeth and decide that she hated the receptionist. Lucas typed with two fingers and each time it made her so pissed her teeth hurt.

"Your name?" the girl snapped again, her glare venomous enough to convince Sam she was attempting to set her on fire with her mind alone.

She was suddenly aware of piercing gaze that almost seemed to hold her hostage as she felt her face flame up. Her name? Her name was Samantha Brenner. She had been Samantha Brenner for three years, and suddenly she had never wanted anything more than to make sure that Freddie didn't know that.

Fuck it. She thought suddenly. She hadn't seen him in seven fucking years. She was being ridiculous.

"Samantha Brenner." She told the girl, earning another snarl for her trouble.

"Finally." She heard the girl mutter as she began to pound her name into the keyboard.

She shot another glance to Freddie, watching her from the side looking oddly uncomfortable, as though he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be waiting for her or not.

"Alright Mrs. Brenner." The girl said, handing her a key identical to the one she handed Freddie. "Room 601, right down the hall from your friend there." She cocked her head at Freddie. "Next." She called loudly around her, clearly trying to make her to move.

Sam took the card with the receptionist's words echoing in her head. Right down the hall from your friend there. Of fucking course she would be placed right down the hall in the same goddamn hotel as him. She grabbed the handle of her bag and turned towards him, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the sun. She had often thought of what it would be like if she ever saw him again. What she would say, do, feel… but now she was curiously numb. The only thing she was aware of was her pounding heart and the lump that had suddenly made swallowing and breathing difficult.

What the hell was she supposed to say?

"Um." She tried when she reached him, staring determinately at his shoulder. She watched the corner of his mouth twitch slightly in a teasing smile and she relaxed marginally.

"Shall we Mrs. Brenner?" He said in the same teasing tone.

Sam slapped him slightly on the shoulder, a reluctant laugh spilling from her mouth. He laughed in return and turned towards the elevator, waiting for her to match his speed. She watched him walk, noting that he still just a hint of the swagger he used to have in high school. Her heart was still pounding but breathing was slightly easier as she thought how easy it was to slip back into their old routine and to take refuge in the familiar safety of humor.

Until they reached the elevator.

And they were the only ones in it.

That's when her breathing got hard all over again. He was watching her carefully as he hit the button for the sixth floor, though he seemed to keep a careful distance from her. By the time they had dinged past the second floor her palms were soaking. She finally chanced a look at him.

She was shocked to find him in what appeared to be the same state of panic she was in. He fidgeted nervously, biting his lip the way he used to, making him look fifteen all over again. When he saw her watching him he gave a small laugh and shook his head slightly before turning to look at her.

"Hi Sam." He said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and smirking at her warmly.

Sam melted a bit around the edges and smiled back. "Hey Fredward." She answered, smirking back at him.

They stood smiling at each other for another two floors, the cloud of their last kiss at their best friend's funeral hanging dark and heavy over their heads. Sam bit her lip. What the hell now.

"So, Sam." Freddie said with a forced air of calmness, swallowing hard enough to make his Adam's apple bob attractively. "What brings you back home."

A twinge of pain flitted through Sam's heart at the word home and she almost snorted deservedly. Home... Seattle hadn't been her home in years.

"Business." she said. "And you?"

She suddenly couldn't look at him again. Which is what he seemed to be waiting for because he didn't speak until they reached the sixth floor and she chanced a look at him.

"Same." He said, staring at her as though he was trying to memorize her face.

There was something so different about him that Sam couldn't figure out, something dark, like he had seen better days. The thought made her laugh. They had both seen way better days. It made her want to run her hand over his face and kiss away the worry lines that never seemed to disappear. She clenched her teeth.

They hadn't moved and the doors began to shut, assuming its passengers had left and Sam reached out to stop it with a panicked movement, earning another chuckle from Freddie. She shot him an annoyed glance and stepped off the elevator, turning back to yank her bag from over the threshold.

Freddie caught it and hauled it over for her. She smiled and murmured a quiet thank you, reaching for the handle, stopping when she realized he wasn't letting go.

"Problem Freduchinni?" She asked.

"Why didn't you help me when that fat bastard at the airport nearly mauled my laptop." He asked out of nowhere, still not relinquishing his hold on her bag.

She laughed loudly, the sound seeming to shock him and he released her bag as though it shocked him.

"Why didn't you help me when I dropped my briefcase?" She lifted her injured hand and gestured at it with her head. "I am handicapped you know."

"Because you laughed when I dropped my laptop." Freddie answered with incredulous laugh, reaching out and taking her injured hand gingerly in his. "And how did the indestructible Sam acquire this new accessory?" He flipped it over and stared into her eyes in that searching way of him. "This isn't your punching hand."

Fuck. She thought suddenly, the memory of Lucas twisting her fingers swimming lazily to the front of her mind and she guiltily repressed it, as though terrified that those damn brown eyes could see right into her head.

"Not important." she answered with as much nonchalance as she could manage, gently detangling her hand from his and smiling to soften the searching look he still had fixed on her. "How's the nerd gear?"

Freddie smiled and hugged the case hanging from his shoulder possessively. "Fine, no thanks to you." he said. "I can't believe you laughed instead of trying to get that whale off of me."

"I laughed because I don't remember you having such a mouth on you." she said, remembering his creative expletives. "When did you start using language that would make sailors blush?"

Her face darkened as she said that last sentence. Sailors blush? Who the hell talked like that? God ten minutes back in his presence and she was already babbling like an idiot schoolgirl. She was twenty five, not twelve.

He didn't seem to notice her mortification and stopped walking, spinning around to face her and she realized they were in front of her room.

"I learned from the best." He smiled at her again and she bit her lip, suddenly at a loss for words again.

She tried to say something once, twice and only came up with a dry cough. Before she could try again he cut her off.

"Have lunch with me." He bit his lip as soon as the words came up, looking mildly horrified.

"Lunch?" Sam repeated, feeling the panic bathe her in the same manner that he was no doubt feeling.

"Yes," He cleared his throat and continued defiantly, a faint blush still tinting his handsome face but his expression set. "Lunch, catch up you know?" His hand came up and lifted an errant curl on her shoulder, brushing it back and sending a shiver through her.

The shiver woke her up and she smiled, realizing suddenly that she wanted nothing more than more time with him. The nervousness of his question making her realize how much she desperately missed him.

"Sure, I'm free at like two thirty." She said. She wasn't really free until three but her boss loved her. He would give her an extra half hour.

The smile that lit his face was brilliant and she almost laughed. "Great, I'll meet you in the lobby then?" he looked nervous again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then." She paused. "Fredwad." She added to break the tension settling over them again.

He gave her another quick smile and released her hair, backing away and continuing down the hall to his room. She watched him leave before opening her door with shaking hands and leaning against it when it was shut, closing her eyes and fighting down the wave of emotions that were threatening to turn her into a nervous wreck.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck shit goddamn shit fuck shit Fuck!" Freddie cursed repeatedly, frantically pacing his hotel room and clenching his hands in his hair. What the fucking hell was wrong with him? He was married, and is spending three days in the city that he vowed to never set foot in again for obvious reasons, when said obvious reason just fucking happens to be staying down the fucking hall. And what does he do? Invited her out to fucking lunch. Freddie was panicking. It had taken every inch of his self restraint not to cry and crush her into an embrace or kiss her or, something.

He threw himself heavily onto the uncomfortable bed and sent another curse to the ceiling for good measure. He knew he was just being petulant. He didn't give a rat's ass about his marriage. He knew perfectly well that Kris was probably enjoying the empty house as he ranted.

But she was married too. The thought sent arrows into his chest. To someone named Brenner. What the hell? No ones last name is Brenner. He scowled, feeling silly at his jealousy, knowing he didn't care in the slightest that she was married too, knowing that given the opportunity he would kiss her again just as he did the last time he saw her-

The sobering thought tore another sardonic snort from him as he embraced the self loathing. He was in a hotel room not twenty minutes from where his best friend and mother died and the only thing he could think of was kissing the woman who held his hand through the entire thing.

This is so fucked up.

And she probably could figure out what was going through his head, he thought miserably. He had practically had a seizure when she laughed; the sound had provoked such a reaction in him. Smooth Benson.

He sighed, turning his head to watch the clock on the table, knowing that two thirty would never come fast enough.

He was so fucked.

...

As it turned out her boss let her off the case at one thirty, giving her a full hour in which to freak out about accepting Freddie's offer. She nervously twisted her hair in her fingers in an unconscious mirror of how he had carelessly toyed with the errant lock the day before.

She suddenly hated Lucas. This was Freddie. The nerd who she continuously used to pick on and the guy she used to love and lean on and insult and fight with on a daily bases. She should not by any means be nervous enough to rival a doctor performing his first open heart surgery. This was all Lucas's damn fault. For breaking her, for making her the jumpy nervous sniveling insect she was, cowering in the face of her own damn emotions. Seven years ago she could easily face something as mundane as meeting someone downstairs for lunch, hell seven years ago it would have been easy to just talk to Freddie.

She wished she was still her.

With a frustrated scream she threw herself down on her bed, wrinkling the dresses she had laid out. Fuck you Lucas, she thought venomously, knowing she would never have the balls to say that to his face. She thought back to why she fell in love with Lucas in the first place. Because he called her Sammy just to get her angry, because he argued with her, because he had thick brown hair and slanted brown eyes and he looked like Freddie and she-

She stopped, suddenly terrified and she took a deep breath before allowing the thought to continue.

Because she loved Freddie and needed something tangible to replace him with.

She was so fucked.

...

And it was with a swimming head and a pounding heart that Sam found herself in the lobby an hour later, her palms sweating buckets as she fidgeted nervously in her high heels. She scanned the crowd mulling lazily around the lobby, searching for him. She considered bolting and hiding in her room until she could go home and hide in the safely of her daily routine.

But before she could move and actually stand him up someone tall and cinnamon scented stood close to her and asked "Who you looking for?"

She nearly screamed in shock and punched Freddie on the shoulder to cover her embarrassment, and so he wouldn't notice the way she was staring at him. He had changed into a polo and hoodie, his resemblance to his eighteen year old self almost unnerving and she felt dizzy all over again.

Get a grip.

"You nerd." He smirked sheepishly at this and offered her his arm which she took with a blush.

"Where too?" He asked.

"You asked me dork, you pick, and pay for it." she smiled as he grinned, shaking his head.

"At least you haven't changed that much. There's this cute sushi place next to Amazing Glaze, and its right across the street. You up for some raw fish?" He asked with a hint of a challenge.

Normally she would have shuddered, her love for meat usually canceling fish from her menu, but after living with a…vegan…something she never forgave Lucas for; and she actually loved sushi.

"Lets sushi." She grinned.

...

"I dare you."

I don't even know what it is."

"Well it's obviously fish so-"

"Its purple!"

"Scared?"

As Freddie smirked his victory Sam snatched up the piece of purple sushi and shoved it into her mouth, finding herself happily surprised to find it delicious.

"Yum..." She said, earning a laugh from Freddie, who reached over with his chopsticks only to have them shoved away by hers.

"Hey share!"

"Its mine Fred weird!"

"Don't be selfish!"

"Fine!" She gave in and shoved the other piece of purple sushi at him, smiling indulgently when he closed his eyes and gave an inappropriate groan as he ate it.

Sam smiled, relaxing another inch as he laughed at his own noise. It was slowly getting easier to talk to him if neither of them spoke of what was hanging directly over their heads. She watched him sample another piece and absently wondered why he hadn't tried to kiss her yet.

She got her answer when he cleared his throat a little awkwardly and said. "So… Brenner?"

She felt her face darken and heat up and she sighed with resigned acceptance. "Yep, his name is Lucas."

She carefully watched his expression, feeling mildly surprised to see that it remained a stoic mask of indifference. He didn't say anything for a second before he swallowed and smiled at her. "Lucas huh? What's he look like?"

Ignoring Freddie's odd question she reached into her bag on the chair next to her, pulling out her wallet and flipping it open, handing it to him. It was a picture she took of Lucas when he wasn't paying attention to her when they were dating. He was hunched over his laptop and absently stirring his coffee, the angle of her camera and the way he squinted down at his computer made him look so much like Freddie it was the only picture of Lucas she carried around with her.

Realizing that Freddie, ever the intelligent, might see his resemblance to her husband in the photo he was staring at she glanced up at him, his expression only belying a slight frown between his eyebrows and his mouth was slightly turned down. She waited until he looked back at her and raised his eyebrows at her while handing her back the picture without commenting on how much he looked like him.

She nearly choked on her tea when she saw the hand that gave her back her wallet wore a wedding ring.

That bastard. She thought suddenly, the floor of the restaurant seeming to tilt for a second before the world righted itself again. He was married. She didn't know how to react to the sudden surge of jealousy and the maddening urge to demand who the hell she was and who the hell she thought she was if she could marry her nerd and not have her say anything about it.

Despite the shouting fit going on in her head all that she managed was a smooth "So what's her name?"

He blushed guiltily, and despite the reason for the blush, Sam was growing to like his face that color, and withdrew his left hand, placing it under the table as though hiding the ring would erase the memory of her seeing it.

Bastard. She thought again.

"Kristina." He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head absently.

Not knowing how to answer that except with a sarcastic Is that her real name or her stage name, she bit her tongue and mimicked his question. "What's she look like?"

Freddie's mouth thinned into a line for a beat, so fast Sam nearly thought she missed it, and he reached into his back pocket with a sigh and pulled out his wallet, pulling out a picture and handing it to her with what looked like a grimace.

She took it and nearly dropped it. It was like looking into her college yearbook. The photo showed Freddie, looking about a year younger with his arm around a girl who looked just like her. Her long blonde hair spiraled into curls that feel to nearly her waist and highlighted her large blue eyes inset perfectly with her white face and immaculate cheekbones.

Jesus fucking Christ. She thought miserably. She's beautiful.

"She's beautiful." She said painfully, handing back the photo. Freddie gave her another tightlipped smile and sighed.

"So what's Lenny like?" He asked, picking up his chopsticks and picking apart a roll, not eating it.

"Lucas is," She stopped, her words dying in her throat. What was Lucas like? He was a bastard. A fucking bastard who had killed who she used to be and hurts her and screams and pulls her hair and he swears he loves her and she hates him. Fucking hell she hates him.

Freddie raises a quizzical eyebrow.

"He's great." She said, forcing a smile and swallowing the sushi that suddenly formed a lump in her throat. "He's really smart, he calls me Sammy, he…" She stopped, suddenly out of good qualities.

"You gave me a black eye the last time I called you Sammy." Freddie said, his mouth pulling into a frown as he began to mutilate another piece of sushi.

Sam bit her lip, fighting the urge to say that she had received a black eye the last time she protested Lucas use of the pet name 'Sammy'

"Yeah well, what's Kristina like?" She asked, suddenly desperate for a change in subject.

Freddie snorted sarcastically, confusing her before he answered with a simple "Great, just fantastic."

"Ah." She stopped. What else was there to say about them? Not much she concluded as she watched him moodily murder yet another piece and she decided to drop the subject of their respective spouses in hopes of getting talkative Freddie back.

"Eat it or leave it Fredduchini." she said teasingly, picking up her chopsticks with her uninjured hand nudging his away from the mess of fish and rice on his plate. His grin returned and he nudged back at hers, starting an impromptu sword fight and driving the thought of Lucas and Freddie's beautiful wife from her mind.

...

Freddie watched her as she gabbed on about her job as they walked back to the hotel. Something was nagging at his brain and his gaze kept drifting to the cast on her hand. There was something about the way she carried it that worried him. When he was twenty one he broke his arm when he and Kris had decided to go swimming while they were completely shit faced drunk. He had carried his broken arm carefully, never touching the cast. She used both her hands equally and didn't seem to pay the heavy cast any mind, like she was used to them.

And the way she spoke about him, Lenard or Lucky or whatever the fuck his name was, she was hiding something.

He snorted at himself. He was hiding something too; hell he lied through his goddamn teeth. He was sure the only people on earth who could describe Kris as fantastic or any variation of the word were the people who were likely dirtying his sheets as they spoke.

He continued to watch her as they entered the lobby and made their way towards the elevator. He was admiring the way her hair shone as the florescent lights of the lobby hit her crown. He longed to reach out and stroke it. It was so shiny it hurt, Kris's hair wasn't shiny at all anymore, and it was so dull from her smoking. The only time he liked to touch her hair now was in bed, when it was dark and he couldn't see her face clearly.

He had been too busy watching her that he didn't notice they had stopped right outside her room, and she was watching him in confusion.

"Did you catch that last bit Fredwad?"

He smiled, grateful beyond belief that she had reverted back to old nicknames, though he thought bitterly, he couldn't call her by her old nickname. She wasn't Puckett anymore.

"Have dinner with me." He said, surprising himself and successfully dropping the lost conversation she just had with herself from her mind.

"Dinner?" she asked. "But we just ate."

Freddie laughed and shook his head. "Tomorrow night, Sam."

She grinned back at him and shrugged. "I guess, if your going to bug me the whole time were here." she said, her grin widening mischievously.

Freddie stayed watching her for a second longer, his heart twisting painfully at the bright cerulean of her eyes that gleamed with that something that Kris's always lacked and let another tiny smile creep over his face. He suddenly had the urge to denounce Kris for the stupid bitch she was and kiss her and tell her how much he missed her-

No.

Gripping the reins on his self control he inclined his head, telling her he'd see her tomorrow before heading back to his room for a three hour shower.

...

She wore a read dress that makes him clench his hand under the table repeatedly. She looks nervous, an expression he has never seen on her face before. It makes his heart ache. She's studying her water glass, her gaze flickering up to his every few seconds. They had discussed everything from the weather to what they did with the rest of their day yesterday to how their business had gone that day. There food hadn't arrived yet and he's suddenly at a loss for words. The hand with the cast is resting lightly on the table next to her water glass and he is seized with a sudden impulse.

He reaches across the table and gingerly takes the chunky cast in his hand, smirking when her eyes widen and her mouth sags in surprise.

"I've missed you Sam." He says softly.

His heart aches almost painfully as her eyes softened and her mouth curves into a smile as a pink blush tinges across her face.

"I've missed you too Freddie." She nearly whispers, the tips of her fingers sticking out of her cast reaching to curl around his fingers.

She bites her lip but before he can say more their waiter is by there table and he has to let go of her hand… all he wants to do is smack the stupid waiter.

She pulls her hand away and keeps her eyes down for the rest of the meal. It isn't until there both done picking at their food, neither really feels like eating, that she looks up and stares deep into his eyes.

"My husband is a bastard. He's the worst human being on this earth. I only married him because he looks like you." He surprisingly isn't shocked by her revelation and he finds his own words spilling out of his mouth.

"My wife is an alcoholic slut who's probably fucking half of Chicago as we speak." Sam's expression doesn't change and he continues. "I stayed with her because her hair reminded me of you."

Her face is expressionless. "Every time I kissed him I was in the cemetery with you."

It is the first time either of them mentions it and he is relieved to find that the world hasn't collapsed on itself. The lack of emotion has caught up with him and suddenly he's fighting to keep in the tears or a scream. Then he notices she's fidgeting in her seat. They don't speak anymore. He stands and places a fifty on the table, not caring that he just gave the waiter he wanted to slap a seventeen dollar tip and, without even the slightest thought of Kris, takes her hand and leads her out of the restaurant.

It is only down the street from the hotel and it's a warm night. They walk hand in hand. Freddie's mind is buzzing. The whole things feels anticlimactic and he feels something's missing, like there should be something else happening after that. He knows she hates her husband and she knows what a bitch Kris is. Yet they walk calmly, quietly; neither of them talking.

Walking through the same streets where they grew up, the same streets they could be found on ten years ago. Except then, they would be fighting… with a person in between them attempting to referee.

He thinks of Carly. He misses Carly. He wonders how outrages she would be if she knew what they had become, shadows of her friends. If she hadn't left it wouldn't have happened like this. He stops. He's done blaming Carly. She's not here, but she always wanted them together. She always wanted them happy. He's not happy, but there's something comforting about the warm hand in his. He holds it tighter. It's still as small as it was when she held his hand at Carly's funeral. It doesn't feel wrong like it should.

They continue in silence into the hotel, ignoring the death glare they get from the bitchy receptionist and staying silent in the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on her hand. His blood is pounding in his ears. He's fighting the urge to scream again.

They stop in front of her room. She takes out the key and opens the door and stops, her hand on the handle and she looks back up at him.

"Lucas did this to my hand." she says with the first hint of emotion; shame. "He's broken me Freddie."

He kissed her.

She somehow knows what was going to happen and she eagerly kisses him in return, all thoughts of Lucas fleeing her mind as she reaches up to touch him, to feel him. She remembers every contour of his shoulders and his large hands wrap around her to pull her closer. She melts into his kiss, it's rough and messy and deep and quietly possessive and all the emotion that seemed to flee her in the restaurant comes back to her and releases a quiet moan.

The moan seems to jolt him and suddenly he's pushing her roughly into her room with enough pressure to make her move but not enough to hurt her. She follows willingly, a single tear escaping her eyes as the familiarly of his scent and taste and feel invade her senses and she's missed that. Fuck, she's missed him. She knots her fingers into his hair. His hands are everywhere, her chest her face her hair her waist. They curl around her waist and he pulls her closer, pressing her into the wall behind and door and pressing his body against hers intimately. A groan escapes his throat and she sighs against his mouth.

The thought that she's cheating on her husband doesn't even cross her mind. She can't even think. She's slowly drowning in the taste of him; a taste she hasn't forgotten and the smell of cinnamon that is quickly becoming her atmosphere.

She isn't aware of her hands yanking off his sweater, or how they steal under his shirt, trying to map out his skin, to make him hers again and erase the touch of this girl who gave him the haunted look that he wore. She feels his hands run down her thighs and back up under her dress, skirting the skin of her thighs and making her knees tremble. He lifts her easily and the world spins for a second and the next she's underneath him on the hotel bed on the other side of the room. She cant figure out how he moved her.

Her fingers skirt lower and undo his belt. She's scaring herself, but then he kisses her again. It's moving too fast and she's torn between begging him to stop and begging him for more because it felt so good.

His jeans are open and his hands are running up her thighs again as he presses his mouth to her throat in hot open mouthed kisses that are slowly driving her insane.

"Freddie-" She gasps out.

The breathy moan of his name seems to shock him and he suddenly stands, his face suddenly a mask of sheer anguish and he stares at her. She stares up at him from the bed with wide and confused eyes. He suddenly turns to leave, not bothering to put his sweater back on and leaving her with her chest heaving and her dress pushed up around her waist and her eyes full of tears, again.

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	6. Chapter 6

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter Six

Sam sat up shakily, her breath coming in staccato pants as she lowered her dress back over her legs and as she struggled to keep the tears at bay. She stood and went to the door, closing it from where Freddie left it open and walked slowly back to the bed, lowering herself back on the bed, picking up his sweater from next to her. She buried her face in it, letting the tears come and letting the scent of cinnamon wafting from the fabric tear her to pieces. She never felt so low, so dirty. She hated herself for letting him in and she hated him for letting her let go like that.

She can't believe she trusted him.

She had told him about Lucas. Not even Melanie knew who Lucas really was. But she had let him in and fallen all over again and practically threw herself at him and now, she was left with a wet sweater and a broken heart. She wished she was still strong, so she could go find him and demand to know what the hell he was playing at, what the hell he was doing to her.

She looked down at the makeup stained sweater and sobbed harder. She knew she was being stupid. She didn't hate him. She loved him with all her heart and she needed him. She knew she could never go back to Lucas now, could never kiss him without tasting Freddie, could never make love to him without imagining Freddie and could never be around him without longing for the spicy scent of cinnamon that was acting like a drug to her as it calmed down her frantic sobbing. She hugged the sweater to her again and sighed. She needed him.

She just couldn't understand how he could do this to her. But as angry as she was she wanted nothing more than to find him and ask what she did wrong, how she would never do it again so long as he wouldn't leave. She wanted someone to hold her. Someone to tell her it would be all right.

She missed Carly.

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to think about Carly but still thoughts of her best friend had begun to swarm her mind. She had always admired how she wasn't shy, how if someone offended her she would be in their face, with her sass and confidence that Sam could never have.

Carly wouldn't want to see her cry like a child.

With a determined but shaky breath, Sam stood, lifting up the sweater to her face, breathing in the scent of cinnamon before heading towards the door, praying that wherever Carly was she would help her through this.

* * *

"Fuck!" Freddie screamed, throwing his other shoe at the wall where it fell to the floor next to his other one. He growled and buried his hands in his hair, his breathing agitated and his heart threatening to tear out of his chest.

He had kissed her. He had fucking kissed her.

And no he hadn't just kissed her, he was an inch away from ripping off that fucking dress and-

He groaned and dropped down onto his bed. She just had to say his name. and him being the fucking idiot he was had stopped, just because it had reminded him of Kris.

He hated that she looked so much like Kris, that he had even allowed the thought of Kris to come to him when he finally had in his arms the one person he had been aching for the last seven fucking years.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He would not fucking cry.

He forced his breathing to steady as her face swam in front of his eyes, her face; a mask of pure fucking anguish as she looked up at him. She looked so incredibly beautiful with her wide blue eyes and her dress pushed up around her hips. His hands ached to touch her and the need for her was thundering around his body and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again and again and-

Fuck.

He hated Kris. He never hated her as much as he did at that moment. It was all her fucking fault that he couldn't do it. He finally had her, but instead he left. Because he was married.

Married; He thought uncharitably. What a fucking joke.

He sighed as the thought of Carly floated into his head and the tears threatened again. He shouldn't be thinking of Carly right now but he couldn't seem to help it. He knew she had always wanted them together and if she were here right now she would be screaming at him, yelling in her shrill but somehow soothing voice that he was an idiot, that he was being dumb and she needed him.

He groaned again. Of course she needed him, look what she had married. He suddenly longed for the aggressive girl from his childhood, the girl who didn't take shit from anybody. The guilt in his chest seemed to double as he thought of how she must be feeling right now, betrayed, hurt. He had hurt her more than her idiot husband had ever done and he hated himself for it.

Help me Carly. He thought desperately. He had never felt so fucking lost and confused.

Fuck it. He thought suddenly, standing and shaking his head. He was going to fix this.

He turned and walked towards the door, grasping the knob and opening it and freezing where he stood.

* * *

She looked at him with her mask still on, looking completely destroyed with tear tracks still gleaming visibly in the light from his hotel room. She held the sweater clutched to her chest and her lower lip still trembled from where it was held captive in her teeth.

He couldn't move. He suddenly didn't know what to say. He stood back, holding the door open so she could come in.

She fixed him with her wide eyes, each second she stared at him tearing the hole in his heart a little bit wider and she finally sighed, coming in and sitting on his bed, looking back up at him.

He closed the door, leaning against it and watching her. Waiting, the silence nearly becoming too much and he nearly broke down again when she finally spoke.

"What the hell Freddie?" she managed to rasp, throwing the sweater back at him none too gently, with the old fire almost back in her eyes, through her lip continued to tremble.

He sighed, his composure returning now that she had spoken and he looked down at the sweater in his hands and staring at the makeup stains. He decided it didn't matter and dropped the sweater, moving to sit next to her and looking at his hands.

"I can't do this." he whispered, not looking at her, not knowing if he could handle it.

"Why not." she whispered back, so softly he had to strain to hear her.

"I'm married."

"So am I."

"You don't understand." He finally looked at her, moving a hand to stroke the side of her face, running his knuckles down the side of her face and burying it in her hair. "I've missed you so fucking much, I can't do this if I keep thinking about my wife; I can't share you with her."

Her face fell and his heart broke. "You love her, it's understandable."

He understands and almost laughed. Instead he leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. "No, I don't." He says, watching her as she keeps her eyes lowered, determinedly not meeting his gaze. "I don't love her; I love you more than I've ever loved her. She was your replacement, Sam." He has never said it out loud but he didn't allow himself to dwell on that bit of bitter truth.

"I need you so much its hurting me." He continues. "But I can't do it if I have to keep pushing her out of my mind."

She is seized by a sudden bravery and she lifts her eyes up to his. "I'll push her away for you."

She doesn't even dwell on how bitchy that sounded because it worked, and a tiny chuckle escapes him and he sighs, looking back into her eyes for a second before kissing her softly, the hand in her hair tightening as he pulled her closer.

She kisses him back, moving her hands to his face and she feels the slight stubble under her hands and she suddenly wishes they were young again, and Carly was alive and they weren't married and they were together and happy, rather than together and conflicted.

"I have to see you again." He murmurs against her mouth.

Yes, she thought. She would have to see him again as well.

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	7. Chapter 7

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Seven

* * *

Whoever invented makeup was a fucking genius, Sam thought bitterly as she smeared her foundation on her face, caking it on in a fashion that would make a drag queen proud, trying her hardest to make the large bruise on the side of her face disappear.

She knew it would be foolish to expect to get away from Lucas with just a fucked up hand, and she fully expected him to be beyond pissed when she returned.

Although, she thought as she smirked at her reflection, she had put up a hell of a fight, using her bandaged hand to tear through his lip and make his right ear bleed, his scream of pain and rage almost worth the throb of pain in her hand. Freddie would be proud.

She stopped, sighing as she watched her reflection stare back at her, her swollen eye going down slightly. Freddie. No matter how often she thought about it she couldn't fully wrap her mind around the thought of him back in her life, and he was now. His number was saved in her contacts and his cologne was still on her dress.

She put her makeup sponge down on her sink, toying with it absentmindedly. The whole thing felt mildly off to her. Sure Freddie had resurfaced all of the painful memories that were expected to resurface when you run into someone you hadn't seen since your best funeral where you shared the best kiss of your life but, even as she re-examined all of the feelings that now flooded her head, the one prominent one that was missing was guilt.

She had successfully cheated on her husband and gotten away with it, but she didn't feel an ounce of remorse for the act.

On the contrary she felt pretty damn good.

She frowned, picking up her discarded makeup sponge and dabbing it on her eye again, allowing a wince this time. She had never cheated on Lucas, but she had cheated on a boy her freshman year of college and she could remember feeling downright awful about it, dumping the poor boy to avoid facing him once the rumor floated over to him.

The sound of the front door slamming made her jump and she nearly dropped her makeup. She paused for a second, wondering if the coast was really clear. She had clearly heard him stumbling around earlier, grunting nonsense and the occasional shout of rage. In all honesty she had expected him to pass out a long time ago he was so drunk, but apparently he had sat around and waited for her to come out of the bathroom after she locked herself in.

But it was one of his favorite games to play, pretend to leave and wait for her to come out.

Not this time you bastard.

She put her makeup down and leaned towards the door, listening for his heavy footsteps on the floor or at least the sound of his labored breathing as he pressed against the door. Her patience was rewarded. A snort of annoyance echoed by the door and she heard him call her a few creative names before she heard the jingle of his keys before the door slammed for the second time, the echo ringing through the house and leaving it strangely empty.

Inching the door open slightly she peeked out, looking down the hall both ways before noticing one of her ceramic piggy's by the door had been knocked over, probably tripping him on the way out. Assured she was alone, she quietly left the bathroom, still moving cautiously out of caution, leaning down by the door to place her piggy back on its feet before sneaking to the kitchen.

She didn't know how long he would be gone so she moved quickly, stealing a few water bottles and two packages of ramen noodles before darting to her room to steal a pillow and blanket off the floor before snatching her charger out of the wall and moving to the bathroom again, dropping her stuff on the floor and locking the door again, leaning against it and hugging the pillow to her chest.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the door. This wasn't the first night she had spent in the bathroom do this and it certainly wasn't going to be the last.

_Stupid Lucas_. She thought bitterly, arranging her blanket on the floor and curling up with her phone in her hand and her pillow under her head. She toyed with her phone, scrolling through her pictures until it landed on its most recent, a picture she snapped of Freddie with a piece of sushi in his hand and a smirk on his face as her chopsticks came into the corner of the picture to poke him on the cheek.

She smiled softly at the picture, her eyes closing as she remembered how he was, his soft brown eyes, his soft, soft hair and those soft, soft lips as opposed to the rough way his hands handled her, the rough way they ran up her thighs and over her stomach and through her hair.

She bit her lip and ran her hand down her chest, tracing her fingers down her collarbone and sliding down the slope of her breast, mimicking Freddie's hands on her as she whimpered at the memory of him.

She closed her photos and opened her contacts, scrolling down to Freddie's name, teasing the call button with her finger as her other hand teased at the waistband of her jeans. She always loved phone sex...

But she immediately reconsidered as she rolled over, her loneliness winning over her desire as she heard the front door open and slam shut; the chink of ceramic on tile telling her that her piggy had been knocked over again. She sat back up, against the door, double checking the lock and clutching her pillow back to her chest.

She looked down at her phone and bypassed the call button, hitting the message button instead.

_I need you._

She sighed and reached for a package of raw noodles. It was going to be a long night.

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	8. Chapter 8

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Eight

* * *

Freddie Benson was good at a lot of things. He could fix almost any  
computer problem in under a minute, he could parallel park perfectly,  
he liked to think he was a good kisser, thanks to a certain someone he  
could pick any lock with almost anything, and he could make egg rolls  
to rival any damn Chinese restaurant, but one thing he was really,  
really good at was bullshitting.

Which is exactly what he was doing as he smiled listlessly at his  
wife. He was pushing around his vegetables and listening to her completely  
false account of how she spent her weekend. Every now and again, when  
he gave her a nod or a toneless, "That's great," she would look up and  
smile, almost looking genuine in her glee that she had gotten away  
with whatever the fuck she got herself into over the weekend, making  
an equally genuine smile cross Freddie's face as he realized he really  
didn't give a flying fuck.

But he bit back his nasty retorts and unbelieving snorts whenever she  
gave an off hand comment about how much she missed him and smiled back  
at her, watching her toy with her hair that he didn't even find all  
that shiny anymore and wondering where the girl who wrote her number  
on his hand after stealing his fat cake went, and sighing when he  
realized that once again, he really couldn't care less.

He sent another nod across the table, earning himself an absent smile  
as Kris took another deep drink from whatever the fuck she was  
drinking and went on rambling, something about how they need a better  
TV because she was so hopelessly bored over the weekend. He stared  
almost through Kris, letting his mind wander and letting her voice  
drip into a drone in the background of his mind.

He gave another smile to Kris, encouraging her to keep talking and  
checked his phone for what felt like the four millionth time, waiting  
for Sam to call, to text him, to do anything. His stomach was churning  
with hot bubbling fear that her idiot husband had more than a warm  
welcome home for her. He had been tempted to send her something, but  
had always stopped himself, not wanting to make her situation worse,  
if it even was bad.

He couldn't stop thinking about her: Her hands, her mouth, her hair.  
That nervous laugh she had adopted until she found her feet with him  
again, the way her mouth still quirked into that damn smirk whenever  
she made fun of him, the soft noises she made when he kissed her  
throat, the quiet way she looked at him-

He missed her. He hadn't seen her in two days but it was killing him  
inside. He watched his substitute across the table eat happily and  
completely unaware of the battle in his head and he was the mad urge  
to slap her. But he doesn't... He just watches her and re-examines his  
feelings. When they were in college he had gotten drunk and kissed one  
of his friends after one of their famous fights, and he had awoken the  
next morning with a splitting headache and a throat full of guilt, and  
he had cried to her and begged her to forgive him, which she did after  
punching him in the face. The gesture made him feel better for some  
sick reason.

But, he thought curiously as he watched her clear the table, still  
surprisingly talking even though he hadn't been giving her any  
reassurance to keep doing so, he didn't feel it. The urge to cry, the  
hot bubbling guilt and the insane urge to say anything, any fucking  
thing , to get her to forgive him, it wasn't there. He let his mind go  
back, to Sam's needy kisses, the feeling of her trembling thighs under  
his hands, the shaking hands that she used to fumble his belt open,  
the way she cried as he kissed her and the way she nearly whimpered  
that she needed to see him again-

Nothing.

If anything he felt vindicated, free. He hadn't realized how much he  
had really missed her until he saw her again, hadn't realized how much  
he still needed her after Carly's funeral until she stumbled back into  
his life seven years later, hadn't realized how much he hated Kris  
until he had the original to compare her to. He watched Kris's slim  
figure move around their kitchen. And felt nothing…

She wanted him that night, for some reason. Maybe she wasn't lying and  
she really had missed him. Either way, he gave in, wondering if it  
would maybe trigger those lost feelings of guilt that just wouldn't  
come to him.

She tastes wrong. She tastes like whatever she was drinking at dinner  
and there's a subtle hint of cigarettes on her breath, and she doesn't  
even smoke. She feels different. Her skin isn't soft enough and her  
hair is too coarse, it makes his face itch where it touches him. She  
looks different. As he stares at her in the darkness of their room he  
doesn't recognize her.

She wants him on top. He wants her on her front, so he doesn't have to  
see her face, and can just bury his face in her hair that's at least  
the same color and lose himself in her, pretending it wasn't her and  
so he doesn't have to hear the words coming out of her mouth, knowing  
they aren't true and half of the names that spill out aren't his.

She falls asleep when he's finished. He watches her sleep and is  
mildly shocked to find that the feelings of guilt have yet to surface  
again. He turns back to his phone, shocked to find that he received a  
message from Sam whilst he was fucking his wife.

_I need you…_

* * *

**Read**

**~The CABAL~**

**aussiemma, axel100, BaalRules, BoxOfTrinkets, boxofpiglets, Champagne Scene, Coyote Laughs, Deviocity, hidden-in-the-pictures, ItalianBabexo8, iCabal, iCarlyangst, iLuvNathanKrEsS, JamesTheGreater, KeyLimePie14, KingxLeon21, Myjumpingsocks, ober22, pairababes, pearlbutton328, Pieequals36, pigwiz, PsychoticAppleSauce, spinlight, Tech-Man, The Earl of Sandwich, twowritehands, Virgoleo23, Waffles Of Doom, xXACCEBXx**

**From fluff, to face melting angst.**

**The Cabal authors produce the best.**


	9. Chapter 9

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Nine

Freddie stared down at his wife, watching her sleep in the early morning rays that streamed in through their window. Her mouth was open and her hair was flung all over his side of the bed. He used to think she looked beautiful in her sleep.

He rolled his eyes. She wasn't anything close to beautiful. Over the last week he and Sam had been texting constantly, and he was finding himself falling harder and harder all over again. All this texting was surprisingly going unnoticed by his wife, though she did enough of her own texting these days.

He missed Sam... he missed her so much it hurt.

But, he thought somewhat gleefully, that was about to change.

He leant down and lifted his heavy suitcase, picking up the ticket to San Francisco and shoving it in his pocket as he walked out of his bedroom, leaving his sleeping wife alone without telling her he was leaving.

The taxi ride to the airport was nerve racking to say the least, the butterflies working their way up Freddie's throat as he leaned his head against the window and watched the sun rise over Chicago.

He hadn't seen Sam in almost two weeks, and despite all the texts and pictures they had exchanged the thought of seeing her again was daunting... and invigorating. He hated that he had to fly all the way to California to see her. She was still his in his mind, and he wanted her constantly, to hold her, kiss her and take her away from her bastard of a husband. He swore under his breath that if she showed up with anything else broken he was going to fucking shoot him.

His phone buzzed lightly in his pocket, he pulled it out and unlocked it, only to snort loudly and making the cabbie look back at him like he was crazy.

_This cab smells like cheese- Sam_

_You love cheese- Freddie_

_You wanna come smell this? I swear it'll turn you off the stuff for life Fredwad- Sam_

Freddie giggled again, his heart performing another flip as the cab pulled into the airport parking lot.

The walk to the terminal was less frustrating this time. It was still early as shit and the floor was practically empty, something Freddie thanked god and any other deity that was on duty today.

As he settled into his seat, grimacing lightly as yet another chubby stewardess handed him a lukewarm coffee that looked like the contents of a public bathroom, he reached into his pocket and checked the message that had just come in.

_Just got on the plane. I'll see you there meathead- Sam_

He smiled, turned the phone off and settled back in his seat as the plane engine began to roar. As they took off, his hands began itching for the feel of soft, blonde hair again.

* * *

Kris glared at the computer screen in front of her, her temper rising higher and higher as she continued scrolling down the list of emails on her husband's hard drive.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

That mothergoddamnfucking fuck faced ass hatted bastard was cheating on her.

* * *

Sam paced the hotel room nervously, chewing on her nails unconsciously and twining her hair around her fingers with her other hand. Freddie's layover in Phoenix had taken longer than he had thought, leaving him stuck in Arizona for another two hours. The result of this was she had arrived much earlier than he would. She used the time to nervously pace the hotel room, as she currently was.

This was getting dangerous.

This morning had been risky enough. Luckily for her Lucas had gotten drunk at his friends house the day before and had passed out on the living room floor when she left. He was going to be pissed when he woke up though; she hadn't even left a note.

She knew he suspected something… she had caught him rifling through her pear phone yesterday morning. Even though she had deleted all of Freddie's texts, she was positive he knew something was up. The piece of shit, abusive husband that he was had sworn to never go through her things, and he had always stayed true to that until now.

She shuddered at the thought of what he would do to her if he ever found out about Freddie. The shudder made her clench her cheek, making her the fresh bruise on her face twinge painfully. She hadn't even bothered to cover this one up with makeup, though she should have… the man at the front desk of the hotel looked horrified when she had checked in. But since Freddie already knew about this one, she didn't bother. She had told him while she was locked in the bathroom with him on the phone for hours after it happened. Fuck she hated Lucas sometimes.

Lucas…

She didn't know what to do anymore. She was falling for Freddie all over again. She knew she was fucked though… the instant she had caught a whiff of his cinnamon cologne in the hotel two weeks ago she was in love all over again. But she was still married, the small diamond on her finger suddenly feeling as though it weighed a thousand pounds. She only married and put up with Lucas because of how much he reminded her of the boy she lost when she was seventeen. But now she had him back, and he was on his way to the hotel… she smiled as she paced.

Her phone chimed an incoming text. She bit her lip, yanking her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and checking to see what Freddie would be sending; her stomach twisting heavily when she read the text.

* * *

Lucas smiled softly as he woke up; despite his ridiculous hangover and the fierce pounding in his head he had never felt better.

She was gone, but he had caught her.

Stupid bitch thought she deleted all the texts from this dead fuck named Freddie from her phone. But he found one, it was stupid. He didn't understand the inside joke it obviously was, but he didn't give a flying fuck, he had caught her. She really should have known he would. She has no friends here and had never texted this much.

He rolled over and sighed, reaching for his vomit covered pear phone next to him, his smile widening as he sent a text to his stupid wife.

_Have fun- Lucas_

* * *

Fuck, Sam thought, erasing the text from Lucas with trembling fingers. He was just fucking with her. If he knew anything he'd be pissed. He had to just be fucking with her.

The hotel room door clicked open, the sound scaring the shit out of Sam and making her jump and spin around as the door opened behind her.

Freddie opened the door to a terrified looking Sam, clutching her phone and staring at him like he was a ghost. He froze with one hand still on the door and waited, concern in his eyes.

She seemed to come to her senses and she visibly relaxed, her shoulders falling and a weak shaky smile crossing her face. Her hair was pulled off her face into a bun on top of her head. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a loose purple v neck shirt, and her wide eyes were free of makeup and her skin stood out shockingly white against the stark bruise on her right cheekbone.

Freddie had never thought she looked so beautiful.

He finally returned her smile as he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a soft click and dropping his duffel bag on the floor next to him.

"Hi" he said softly.

Her smile widened… she dropped her phone onto the table near the window and quickly crossed the room to him, fitting herself against his chest as he opened his arms and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Fresduccini." She sighed as she buried her face into his chest.

"I missed you." he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head as his hands came up and loosened her bun, letting her hair down. She laughed, he smiled.

"Alright I missed you too but you don't have to go all mushy on me Benson." she sneered playfully at him, reaching her tiny hands into his hair and pulling him down into a kiss.

* * *

**Yes, it has been a while! A year and five days to be exact! That's no way to run a shoe store! (shoe store? Um…)**

**Anyway, WE'RE BACK! ****BoxOfTrinkets and I are going nuts putting the rest of this story out! So read, read… read away! And just wait until you see what they do in the hotel room… it will all be out in the next chapter! heh heh heh **

**pigwiz**

* * *

_**So leave a review**_

_**Or six or nine!**_

_**If you don't **_

_**You know we'll whine.**_

_**But if you do**_

_**It will be like glue**_

_'**cause chapter ten**_

_**Will make you say**_

**WHEW**


	10. Chapter 10

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Ten

* * *

Freddie sighed, the tension and frustration of the last two weeks melting out of him as he sunk into Sam's kiss. A twinge of guilt flew through him as he thought for a fleeting moment; he'd forgotten what she tasted like, how different… his mind clouded momentarily remembering the taste of un-brushed teeth and cigarettes; the taste of Kris. But the sweet taste of Sam filled his mouth once again. He couldn't help the soft groan he let out as her tongue reached out and softly licked his lower lip, quietly asking for the permission… he granted this immediately, opening his mouth over hers and devouring her as she melted into his arms.

Her tiny hands were all over him, pulling at his hoodie and running through his hair. It's as though she couldn't get enough of the feel of him. He let his own hands travel, one floating to her lower back and the other twining itself in her long, soft hair and pulling slightly, tilting her head up so he could kiss her deeply… this earning him a moan that shook him to his core. He had never been big on kissing, Kris wasn't very good at it, and in all the experience Freddie had had, it seemed more like a necessary starter for other things to come. He knew he could get into it if this was how it was done. Sam seemed to throw everything she had into the kiss, pushing herself further into him and sending him the love he prayed he returned in his own kiss.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there kissing, it might have been minutes or hours or even days… but eventually she pulled away. Placing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, she lowered herself down from where she had been standing on tiptoe. His hand was still in her hair, and she gently pulled it free, holding both of his hands in her own tiny ones and gazing deep into his eyes. Freddie's breath caught in his throat, she was painfully beautiful, and for some reason the familiar roll of grief made its way known deep in his belly. The pain of losing her… the ache he felt for years remained… even though he held her hands… even though she was mere inches from him. He felt his eyes prickle with tell tale tears as he pulled her towards him by her hands, catching her as she fell into him, and catching her mouth in a deep kiss.

He felt her gasp as she returned the kiss with fervor, her timid movements from earlier gone now. She grasped at his shirt with clenched hands, pulling him to her, seemingly through her as she kissed him deeper than he had ever been kissed in his life. It quickly became a battle, the old Sam coming back out as they did what they did best, fight. Although this time it was for dominance of the kiss, a competition of who could devour the other more. Something in Freddie snapped and he growled low in his throat. His hands moving once again as she desperately unzipped his hoodie. He spun them around so her back was to the door and he shoved her against it, pausing for a second at the sound of pain she emitted… but quickly forgetting it as she whimpered impatiently. He pushed his body against hers, letting go of her mouth to let his own travel to her long, white throat, biting and kissing and sucking and lightly marking her as he kicked her legs apart, pushing himself against her more intimately as he felt the stirrings of his arousal.

"Don't leave a mark." Her strangled whisper reached him and he groaned again, suddenly remembering the trouble she would be in if he marked her. He nodded against her throat, softening his movements but still ravaging her nonetheless. She seemed to trust that he wouldn't mark her and her hands quickly resumed their earlier task, fighting with the zipper of his sweater. She finally got it open and shoved it off his shoulders. He pulled away for a second to remove the offending clothing, yanking his shirt over his head in the process. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her expression made him smile; her almost predatory look. He reached out, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her hard as her hands moved over him… roving over his shoulders and running down his chest. She reached around and drug her fingernails down his back; he moaned, a shiver working through him as he felt himself grow harder. He pushed his hips against her, grinding into her body and earning another gasp as her hands left his back and grabbed his hips, pulling him into her harder as her hips rolled up to meet his.

He grasped her hips, pulling her up and all but slamming her into the door. Her thin legs came up and wrapped their way around his hips, grinding back into him and sending a spike of pure need through Freddie. His hands moved over her, around her slim waist, up and down her thighs and around the curve of her ass as she pressed hot, open mouthed kisses onto his neck and bare chest. Her hair was everywhere, caught in Freddie's eyelashes and against her back, limiting her movements so she wouldn't pull it. Freddie decided he couldn't have that and he pulled her away from the door, never putting her down as he carried her across the room and all but threw her on to the bed.

She stared up at him, her blonde hair in disarray and her wide blue eyes full of love and trust. It made something in his heart give a painful twist. He slowly lowered himself over her, his hands framing her face and his body covering hers completely. Her breath came in unsteady pants through her open mouth, her hands found purchase on his shoulders, her fingernails digging slightly into his skin. He stared into her eyes, the eyes he fell in love with when he was fifteen… he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to the bruise on her face, hearing her breath catch in her throat. He moved his mouth down and kissed her, the urgency coming back to him as she worked her legs out from under him and she wrapped them around her waist. She pulled herself up to him while deepening the kiss and plunging her tongue into his mouth with a whimper.

That sound, that tiny whimper set Freddie on fire. He returned her desperate kiss. Reaching down he began pulling her loose shirt over her head, and watched in rapture as she helped him; her arms over her head and her hair cascading around her head like a halo. She now lay underneath him, her chest heaving and her top bare save for a pink bra that looked suspiciously familiar.

"Didn't I pick this out for you when we were sixteen?" Freddie whispered as he reached up and pulled one of the straps off her bony shoulder. A strap he knew was glow in the dark.

Sam smirked at him, the expression so heartbreakingly familiar it made Freddie's heart ache.

"Well it was always your favorite…" She whispered.

He wasn't about to argue with that. Freddie returned her smirk and then dipped his head, kissing down her throat softly.

Sam was lost, her senses lost in the heat of the room and her mind clouded with the heady scent of cinnamon and Freddie. His mouth attacked her throat while his large hands came up to cup the slope of her breast cautiously. She whined, raising her hips to his as the arousal burned between her legs. She loved the tenderness, the gentleness with which he handled her, but despite the fact that he was on top of her she still felt the ache of missing him. She wanted him… she wanted him badly. She longed for the urgency he displayed when he had her against the door, the animalistic need with which he growled at her.

"I'm not made of glass." She whispered as his mouth danced around the rise of her chest, seemingly afraid to go any further.

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked, raising his head and running a thumb over the bruise on her face. Once again a wave of hate washed over Sam as she realized that Lucas had made her look weak, vulnerable, and helpless. She was Sam Puckett damn it, unbreakable, tough, strong and badass. She could handle whatever Freddie wanted to give her.

She narrowed her eyes at Freddie, reaching a hand between them and grasping his arousal that rested between her legs. Running her hand up him, gripping the base before letting her fingers travel up his clothed erection and making him drop his head back to her chest and groan… the sound making Sam even wetter and she tugged again, determined to bring the animal back out of him.

It seemed to have worked; she found her hand batted out of the way as her mouth was claimed in the most brutal of kisses, bruising and hard, all pretense of tenderness gone. She let her eyes flutter shut and she moaned. She let him control the kiss and felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach as she heard him fumbling with his belt buckle before he sat up, stood up and then pulling off his cargo shorts. He crawled back to her, clad in only his boxer briefs, she leaned up, expecting another kiss but she was roughly shoved back down, the rough handling turning her on even more and he attacked the button of her jeans, opening them with ease and meeting her eyes with a burning gaze as he pulled the zipper down, almost teasingly slow… he grinned when she whined again.

He yanked her jeans off and flung them to the side. He was moving back to her, as if to get on top of her again, but she wasn't having any of it. She caught his shoulders and flipped them over with a hint of her old strength, slamming his shoulders onto the headboard and climbing into his lap, her strong legs straddling his groin and she grinned down at him. He stared up at her with his mouth open in surprise. She was in charge now.

She recaptured his mouth with hers, kissing him with the same brutality she'd shown him moments ago… barely letting his hands reach up for her hair before catching them in her own, twining their fingers together and leading them up to the headboard, holding them on either side of his head before she let go.

"Stay." She whispered mischievously,

He was all to eager to obey; she kissed him again, letting her hips meet his hardness as she began to grind down on him, rubbing her heat against his erection as she wove both hands into his hair and tugged.

The room was suddenly a thousand degrees hotter; Sam could hardly breathe… the scent of Freddie and cinnamon so strong she felt as though her lungs were coated with a thick layer of the spice. She could feel the stirring of her climax begin to unfurl deep inside her and she began to move her hips faster against his, leaning back and letting her hair fall over her face, knowing how much Freddie liked it a mess.

Freddie looked like he was in agony, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth hanging open as his labored breathing was torn from him, his hands still obediently next to his head, though now they clenched and unclenched in time with his hips as he thrust up against her, his movements becoming more and more frantic until he snapped, his eyes opening and his hands moving, reaching for her and they grasped her hips so hard there would be faint bruises for the next three days. He held her firmly in place, guiding her hips as she continued to rut against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. She was burning up, she was on fire with need, and she needed him to do something or she was going to-

Suddenly she found herself on her back, her hair hanging off the back of the bed and Freddie was once again leaning over her, his hands busy with the front hook of her bra (a smile flittered across their faces as they suddenly remembered why it had always been his favorite) opening it and letting her full breasts free before attacking them with his hands and mouth. Her head flew back and her eyes shuttered closed and a low moan escaped her as he slowly tore her apart, one hand on one nipple, kneading and tugging and his mouth on the other, teasing it with his lips and tongue… making her cry out when he suddenly bit down on her, hard.

He caught her cry with another brutal kiss, making her head spin and her thighs shake and she barely registered him tugging her underwear off. She made her hands move, moving down his muscular back and to his hips, pulling at his briefs as best she could from her position until he got the hint and helped her, finally laying his fully naked body on hers, she was in ecstasy, feeling his broad chest on her own and his throbbing arousal, hot and heavy resting right at her entrance, a promise she couldn't wait for him to come through with.

She deepened the kiss further, wrapping her legs high around his waist, her intentions couldn't be any clearer and her eagerness seemed to do something to Freddie, he groaned low and deep again, dropping his head to her neck and shifting his body. She wanted it, god she wanted it, she wanted him… all of him… and then-

He froze.

It took Sam a few seconds to realize they weren't having sex yet and she slowly lowered her legs, running a hand through his hair cautiously and nudging the side of his head with her nose.

"Freddie?" she whispered, her throat hoarse. She was answered with another groan before he raised his head and met her gaze, the burning arousal gone from his eyes and replaced with such heartbreaking sadness it made Sam panic.

"I can't do this." He whispered, looking for all the world that he could, he very much could do this, and he very much wanted to.

"Wha-why not?" she stuttered. What had she done wrong?

Her panic must have shown on her face, he relaxed his body and kissed her forehead gently, only making Sam panic even more. This was it, he was leaving her, she was too damaged for him, or he realized he loved his wife more or something-

She was pulled out of her frantic thoughts by Freddie tugging her up the bed, pulling down the covers and slipping into them, still pulling her by the hand until she followed him, slipping her body next to his and falling into his open arms. He held her to his chest, his erection still resting against her, but with pure tenderness in his eyes as he pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I love you." He whispered to her. Her heart seemed to stop and all the oxygen was sucked from the room as the world tilted slightly on its axis before righting itself again. He loved her.

"I love you." She whispered shakily in response, confusion still lurking behind her sheer unbridled joy that the love she had for him wasn't one sided.

"I can't do this if you're not completely mine." He clarified, looking devastated at his own words and his arms tightened around her. "You are mine. You have always been mine. But-"

Sam bit her lip, blinking up at him before burying her face in his throat. He pulled her closer, one hand around her back and the other cupping the back of her head, holding her to him.

"But I won't do that to you. I know you're human and you have feelings, and I can't burden you with the guilt of doing this when, for now, you belong to someone else."

'For now?' Sam didn't bring up his word choice, but merely nodded, the tears finally escaping and falling down her face and onto his chest. He tugged her hair until she looked up at him, only to see there were tears in his own deep brown eyes.

"I love you so much Sam." he told her again, pulling her up for a kiss.

It was soft, sad and loving with just a hint of desperation and quiet ownership, that kiss, and it felt exactly as it had when he gave her the same kiss in front of the cemetery all those years ago.

Fine, Sam thought as she kissed him back gently. He's right, I'm not his, and if the fact that I'm not is what's stopping him, we'll just have to fix that.

* * *

WOW!

My writing partner, BoxOfTrinkets, has just updated, well everything!

AND AND AND

BaalRules has just updated the oh so epic

iwant a girlfriend

!

Also, watch for my update of

The Apartment

Over the next day or so

~pigwiz~

You know, reviews are the jam on your toast!


	11. Chapter 11

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Eleven

* * *

Freddie sat in the uncomfortable chair in the cookie cutter room, alone. He glanced at the green glare of the alarm clock on the bedside table; 3:47 AM. He'd been sitting here nursing a bottle of scotch since he'd left Sam's room. He'd never felt more like a failure in his life. The woman he loved was only three doors down… three fucking doors away and his guilt over what was supposed to happen this evening had ruined everything. His fucking slut drunken wife had ruined it. She ruined everything. He was sure Sam was going to tell him that what little they had shared was it… she didn't need a coward like him in her life.

He took another sip of his scotch, set the plastic tumbler back down and stared at his cell phone. He'd turned it off hours ago… before going to Sam's room. He picked it up off the gimpy legged table, watched his drink slosh around a bit in the stupid plastic cup, and turned the phone back on… eight missed calls from, Kris? What the hell? The bitch had never called him before while he was away… there was one new message. He pressed retrieve.

'_You mother fucker! You're out there, wherever the fuck you are fucking some cunt named Sam? FUCK YOU! You cheating bastard. Your ass is grass when you get back here asshole. You are going to suffer for a long time for this dickhead. A long, long time.'_

Freddie started to chuckle, then laugh. 'Of all the… gall! This is the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black.' He said to himself, still laughing.

Until he suddenly sobered… it wasn't Sam's husband that filled him with guilt. It was his fucking slut wife! Yeah, he'd made a commitment to her… but she had shredded that agreement long ago.

'For better, for worse…' he mumbled to himself before taking another sip of scotch. '…well this is about as 'worse' as I'm willing to let it get.

Staring at his left hand, he began twisting the wedding band around his finger. He'd put a lot of hope and dreams into this band… unfortunately it represented the wrong person and reasons. That's why this marriage would never work, and hadn't really since day one. He'd married a surrogate, a fake. Kris was nothing more than a shallow representation of Sam… a cardboard cutout… he'd known that since the beginning, but only this moment let the full weight of his folly finally sink in.

He sighed, and took another sip of his scotch.

Sam paced in front of the hotel chest of drawers… back and forth, for the last hour. She had actually gotten ready for bed, but it was still made, untouched since Freddie had left. She looked at herself in the mirror… and grimaced at her faded blue flannel pajamas. 'Oh yeah, how sexy is that, Brenner… Brenner… I'm not meant to be Mrs. Brenner. Damn it, if I'm meant to be Mrs. anything, its Benson…'

She continued to stare, her stomach in knots, knowing what she had to do. She could stand up to that bastard, she really could… hell, for her own sanity she had too.

Her mind made up, she lurched into action knowing she needed some answers from Freddie… and to inform him of a couple things. Regardless of how this went with Freddie, she knew she was done with Lucas. She opened her suitcase and pulled out some socks, slipped them on and then stepped into her slippers. Turning toward the door, she stopped and turned back around, rifled through her purse, grabbed her wallet and removed the picture of Lucas… she smiled, a genuine smile as she tore it to pieces and dropped the shards of her former life on the floor… she watched the last of them flutter down, landing haphazardly, randomly.

She slipped into her favorite, comfy yellow terrycloth robe, dropped her key card into the pocket and walked away from the failure laying in pieces on the floor… that was over… she was done. Now, on to whatever lay ahead.

Freddie looked at the bottle of scotch, Glenlivet… certainly not Glendronach, but not bad. He'd drank nearly a third of the bottle with no effect. He shook his head. His nervous system was near overload, the whisky couldn't touch it. He looked at his ring finger again… yeah, it was time.

He slipped his wedding ring off, and set it on the table, and was immediately slightly disappointed. He didn't feel any different than he had a moment before. Then suddenly he knew… he knew that removing that ring, that stain on his finger, was akin to the mythical Bennu, the Phoenix of ancient Egypt rising from its pyre… he was free.

He picked up his glass, made a toast to no one, smiled and took a sip. Just as he set the plastic tumbler down, there was a timid knock on the door. He looked at the bedside clock: 4:11 AM. It had to be Sam… and he was pleased. She was the reason for this re-birth, only her. He loved her; he wanted her… he needed her.

He walked over to the door, opened it, and before she could say a word he had grabbed her by the hand, pulled her into the room, pulled her to him, and kissed her.

Sam was stunned. She had been ready for… well anything but this. Without warning he had pulled her into a deep, lusty kiss… 'What the heck?' she thought, and returned it with all the ardor she could. After a bit they broke apart and searched each others faces for the reason, meaning, anything… they both saw ecstatic smiles through swollen lips, and new beginnings. They kissed again.

"Sam, do you like scotch? Would you like a drink?" Freddie asked after breaking the kiss.

Sam nodded, unable to speak. She was giddy… and far to excited to ruin the moment with words. Freddie was beaming as he took another plastic cup and poured the shimmering brown liquid in the cup. He presented it to her as if it were a libation, a celebratory ritual only for them. As he turned to pick up his cup from the table, she noticed his ring. She sat on the edge of his bed… she was bubbly, girlish. He sat at the table.

"Nooo silly, come here, join me. I'm lonely all by myself…" She cooed.

He moved to the bed, and sat next to her, kissing her on the cheek as he sat. They clinked their cups together and each took a sip. They sat together silently, reveling in their joy, stealing glances at one another while sipping their drinks. Finally, Freddie broke their reverie.

"I'm going to need a good divorce attorney… know of one?" He asked, grinning like a loon.

"An attorney? Divorce? Why, whatever for? And… you know… I just might know of one or nine!" She replied with mock surprise.

"You do? Really?" He replied, grinning.

"I see something missing from your left ring finger, mister." She scolded while reaching across and taking his left hand in hers.

"Well, how about that. I guess you'll just have to get me another one… how about you? Want one as well?" He asked.

She finished her drink, took his cup and set them on the bed side table. She slid up onto his lap, put her arms around his neck, kissed him as he put his arms around her waist, and then kissed him again.

"If you'll get one for me, then yes… I do need a new ring." She whispered.

Still grinning, Freddie stared at her, wondering why suddenly she had such a serious expression… until suddenly she burst out laughing.

"What…" He asked, laughing himself.

"I don't know… I was trying to be all seductive…" She said laughing. "I'm too happy for all the seduction stuff though…" She continued while faking a pout interspersed with giggles.

Freddie smiled… his smile sent waves of pleasure through her. He could sense her giddiness… it showed in her smile, the way she held her head, but mostly in her eyes. Her blue eyes glistened; they radiated warmth, happiness, peace… love. They were like a million perfect diamonds in radiant blue pools… those eyes…

"I love you…" He said quietly.

She kissed him.

"And I love you…" She replied in like fashion.

She kissed him again, quickly, a nearly chaste kiss, pulled away and laughed again.

"I love you Fredward Benson!" She said chortling.

"And I love you, Samantha… um… whatever…" He replied grinning, wondering what it was she was laughing about.

She snorted, laughed and snorted again; "Yeah, whatever…" She said, laughing all the while.

She started doing an odd wink with her left eye while cocking her head toward the middle of the bed in time with the 'wink'. He stared at her for a moment, burst out laughing and asked;

"So… you've developed a tic in that eye there miss?"

She laughed even harder and continued her 'tic' for a moment, then grabbed his collar, rolled to the side and pulled him down on top of her.

She licked his nose, and laughed even harder.

"Oh ho! It's so on…" He said and began to tickle her waist.

She broke into convulsive laughter while trying to swat his hands away while wiggling around. He was tickling her through her robe, which seemed to be working, but he decided it needed to come off. He stopped, untied the sash, opened her robe, shoved his hands under her pajama shirt and began tickling her ribs… until he discovered she wasn't wearing a bra. He flicked his thumb over her right nipple.

"Oh! Find something there mister?" She asked grinning.

He looked up at her, she was smiling. He grinned and began tickling her boobs… which sent her into uncontrolled thrashing and laughing. He used his other hand to unbutton her top. When he pulled her top open, revealing her breasts she stopped thrashing about, smiled and looked up at him. And then asked; "See anything you like there, buster?"

He grinned, nodded his response, placed a hand on each breast and began gently kneading them while randomly lightly flicking her nipples with his thumb.

"mmmm… that's nice…" She said.

He leaned over and licked her right nipple while still kneading her left breast. He licked around her areola and nipple for a bit before taking her entire areola into his mouth… and blowing a raspberry.

This sent her completely over the edge. She threw her head back and laughed herself to tears. Freddie sat up and laughed with her, all the while watching her breasts jiggle and bounce. She finally settled down, looked him up and down appraisingly, sat up and pulled her robe and pajama top off. Without another word, she began unbuttoning his shirt, pulled it off, and then his under shirt, still chuckling every so often.

Not to be outdone, he untied the bow in her flannel pajama pants and began working them down. She raised her rump; he pulled off her pants and panties, tossing them on the floor. She sat up, kissed him soundly and unbuckled his belt and undid the button of his pants. He lay down and kicked his pants and boxers off the rest of the way.

They were both naked.

Sam crawled on top of him and began kissing and licking her way down his neck, chest and stomach. His dick was already erect, hard. She licked around the head, then slowly along the length… she took the head of his dick in her mouth and began bobbing slowly up and down while using her tongue in ways that were making him moan slightly.

Until she burst out laughing again, mid stroke… which caused her to snort loudly since she still had his dick in her mouth. She sat up, again laughing hilariously, and fell over sideways next to him on the bed.

"I'm so [laugh] sor [laugh, snort] ry honey, but [laugh giggle] I'm just so [snort laugh] happy [laugh laugh]…" She gushed brokenly through her laughter.

He grinned at her. He'd never seen her so happy, ever… knowing it was him that was causing her to feel this way made him love her even more… but, he also was ready, and he thought he knew just how to make this woman understand just how much she meant to him.

He took her gently by the hips and repositioned her in the center of the bed. He began licking and kissing her breasts while gently massaging the outer folds of her pussy.

That got her attention… she stopped laughing, sucked in a lung full of air and exhaled a low, breathy moan. He continued his massaging while kissing and lightly licking his way down, first her tummy, then her inner thighs, and then her clit. She began to buck slightly while rocking her hips in time with his tongue. Slipping a finger past her folds, he began sucking her clitoris while rotating his finger slowly along the inner walls of her pussy. She sucked in another breath and moaned. He continued this for a while; gauging her breathing until she was nearly panting… he stopped, sat up on his knees and began tapping his rock hard dick along her clit and pussy. He could tell by her moans she was close. He pushed the head of his dick in her, pulled it back out and continued tapping her clit with his dick. She rubbed her hands across her breasts, moaned, and grabbed the sheets so hard he could see her knuckles whiten. He slid his dick in her again, just a bit further… she sucked in more air and moaned loudly while her muscles contracted around the head of his dick. He pulled out and continued the tapping. She began calling his name in a low keening moan… over and over and over. He pushed into her again, she moaned louder and louder in cadence with the motion of his dick, he pulled out and continued tapping her clit. She had a slight climax, and began pleading with him to fuck her. He pushed into her again, beginning a slow, rhythmic stroke… in, out, in out… she spread her legs further and rocked her pelvis up to give him a better angle. He suddenly buried himself in her completely.

She howled his name.

In, out, in out, faster and faster. Sam was writhing, panting, and screaming his name while lost in the pleasure. In, out, in out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, he felt her contract around him, he grabbed her hips and began pounding into her… he was close, she was there. She began to shiver. She reached out and grabbed his hips pushing his delicious dick into her and holding him there while she ground her pussy against him and moaned over and over and over in time with their strokes. In a moment he gasped and she felt his release flood through her… she climaxed again.

Spent…

They lay holding, caressing each other, catching their breath while lightly kissing each other face and lips.

'This was it, this is where I belong…' they both thought.

They slept.

Sam woke first. The sunlight was teasing through the thick patterned shades illuminating the room in constantly shifting patterns. She could hear the gusty winds and hear the rain randomly pelting the window.

He lay next to her, nestled into her back with his arm wrapped around her hip. She loved him, and she knew he loved her. She could tell… this was it, this was the one… the once and future love.

She could feel his erection on her ass…

'No sense letting that go to waste…' She thought, grinning to herself.

She knew she was ready, which surprised her slightly. This man made her wet as an October rain shower… she'd always needed a gel with Lucas. She smiled as She slowly rolled out from under his arm, tossed the sheets back and gently nudged him onto his back. He was still erect and hard… 'perfect' she thought. She straddled him, rubbed the head of his dick against her folds until his eyes started to flutter, and then lowered herself onto him. He woke with a smile.

"mmmm… are you going to wake me up like this every morning?" He asked her in a husky, lusty voice that nearly sent her over the edge. She sucked in a breath and began to rock herself back and forth, and up and down.

"If that's what you want, baby… you feel so good…" She husked out herself.

"You can't imagine how good it feels inside you, Sam." He said as he reached up to fondle her breasts.

As soon as he touched her boobs she could feel the heat swell… she ground onto him a little harder, a little deeper, and a little faster. Soon, she was lost again in the pleasure of their love making. Her walls tightened around his cock as she climaxed, and she saw his expression change as he came as well. She loved making him make that face.

With him still inside her, she leaned forward and kissed him soundly. They lay like that for a while… neither speaking… with Sam gently rocking her hips occasionally to keep him just hard enough to stay in her. Soon, Freddie began to rock his hips as well.

"Again? So soon?" She murmured sleepily, and then kissed him.

"Let's try." He said as he rolled them over onto, now with her on her back.

He continued slowly pumping in and out of her.

She moaned.

He slowly buried himself in her again and again. She climaxed, but he was no where near yet, however he could feel himself building towards one. In and out, again and again… walking, and then running down the road to physical nirvana. She started to growl, he focused on her breasts as they slowly rolled and bounced to his rhythm. They began moaning in unison, timed to his thrusts, he massaged her breasts again and felt her tighten around him. They were there. They climaxed, and soon after he pulled his spent self out of her.

They lay there for a bit, kissing, caressing… loving each other.

Finally, she nuzzled into him and whispered; "Can we get room service? I'm starving."

He smiled, and picked up the phone.

-x-x-x-

**YAY! I'm really going to finish this! I lost my writing partner, so this is all me, pigwiz. So I will attempt to do as well as the pair of us did. BoxOfTrinkets is a massively talented author. By far, much better than me, but I will get this done by the first of the year. That's my goal. The next update will be to my own story; 'The Apartment'. Then back to this one for the finish… which will be, well, I'm not telling. You'll see! **

**Please review!**

**:pig~ **


	12. Chapter 12

Until We Meet Again

Chapter Twelve

* * *

Sam saw the door fly open and crash into the wall. She sat up in bed just in time to see Lucas rush into the room while pulling a machine gun from out of his filthy orange robe. He smiled evilly, leveled the gun at both of them in the bed, and pulled the trigger… tat tat tat tat… tat tat tat tat…

"NOOOO!" She screamed, sitting up in bed, and crashing over Freddie to shield him.

"Its okay babe, I'll get it. It's our breakfast." Freddie said while giving her a quick kiss on the lips, rolling out from under her and getting out of bed. He picked up and pulled on his robe.

He walked to the door, looked back at Sam and cleared his throat… tat tat tat tat "Room Service" A voice called from the other side of the door.

Freddie gestured at Sam again while clearing his throat once again. She looked down at herself… nude, sitting up in bed.

"Oh! Right…" She said pulling the covers up over herself while lying back down. Freddie smiled, nodded and opened the door.

The bellhop rolled in a fully laden food cart, clearly avoiding looking toward the bed, and parked it in the middle of the room. Freddie picked up his wallet from the table, pulled out a bill and handed to the smiling bellhop.

The bellhop nodded his thanks, and left the room and quietly pulling the door closed behind him.

Freddie uncovered a couple of plates before looking over to Sam… she was still in the bed… she was shivering. He sat on the edge of the bed; "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

She looked at him, and nodded… but she wasn't okay, and she knew it. She'd wasted time. She could have been here years ago if… Lucas. Lucas was it. He'd seemed so much like this man in front of her. She was sure she could make it work; she kept trying and trying… Lucas was a fucking pig, and he scared the crap out of her. And now, they were going to confront this bastard. They had too, and it was going to happen soon.

She sighed.

"Yeah, just had a bad dream…" She said looking up at him.

He nodded.

"Look, this is going to get cold, and I know you're hungry, so… feel like eating?"

She nodded, and sat up. He picked up her robe and put it over her shoulders. When she'd risen, and the covers fell away, he'd got that feeling again… she smiled, looked at him and huffed.

"Geez Benson, who put a quarter in you? You want another go?" She said as he took her hands and helped her stand.

"Let's eat first, then maybe…" He murmured, giving her a hug.

"I feel like I've missed this, but you can't miss what you've never had…" She said hugging him back.

He backed away slightly, and scrunched his eyebrows thinking that she had just nailed it. She had just pulled the feeling right out of him and put a name to it. He hugged her again before leading her by the hand over to the table. He pulled out the nearest chair with a flourish for her. She sat, giggling.

She giggled… he'd never heard her giggle… the sound was like a tiny wind chime on a blustery day… it was a sound that enthralled him.

He served her first then himself. The next fifteen minutes were wordless, but the glances… the glances were at first shy. Even after the last few hours… shy glances that seemed to fill the empty spaces in their hearts and souls… spaces each of them had forgotten they had.

"He scares me, Freddie… I'm afraid of him, what he might do… he, he…"

"I'll be there, he won't do anything…" Fred said, but thought to himself that things could really get crazy. He changed the subject, slightly.

"So, Ms. Attorney, how's this going to work. We both need divorces, now, not later, now."

Sam nodded. "Yep, and I'll do yours… Illinois has reciprocal rights with New York. In fact, get cleaned up, get some clothes on and get my stuff out of my room. Can you stay here again tonight?"

"Sure" he shrugged, "But what about your divorce?"

"I'll type it up and have a friend sign off on it… mine will be easy, we don't own anything. What about yours?"

"I don't know… she's an heiress… the trust owns the house, everything. I work for her uncle, and…"

"An heiress, huh?" She cut him off, grinning.

He nodded.

"Is there a pre nuptial?" She asked.

"No…"

"Ha! Yours will be a piece of cake. I'm taking a shower, toss on some clothes and get my stuff… do it quickly enough, and I may still be in the shower when you get back." She finished, grinning.

He began gathering up enough clothes to throw on and be decent. She stood, walked to the bathroom door, stopped, turned back to him and let her robe drop off while running her hands down her sides.

"I… I won't be long…" He stammered.

"Good." She replied, entering the bathroom.

He got the key cards off the table and left. Cleaning out her room didn't take long… she hadn't really unpacked much. He made two quick trips, dumped her luggage on the floor and stood facing the bathroom door. He could hear the water run… she was showering. He could tell from the uneven splashing sounds. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned, then stopped. Stepping back, he stripped and opened the door slowly. The shower curtain was drawn shut. He pulled it back.

"Oh, my loofah has arrived… well come on in." She said smiling.

He stepped over the edge of the tub, and joined her. She reached up and closed the flimsy curtain.

He was mesmerized.

As she pulled the curtain closed her breasts swung and jiggled as if they had a life of their own. He moved behind her, reached around and took a breast in each hand, and started a slow massage.

"Well, you've got the right idea, don't-cha" She huffed while exhaling slowly.

After a few moments, his right hand drifted down her tummy, and between her legs. He gently began massaging her folds, until he found what he was after in her upper folds… her clitoris. He began a slow, gentle one fingered litany while gently applying a slight pressure.

She moaned.

He continued caressing her clit while still massaging her left, then right breast and nipples.

Her hips began slowly rotating as she moaned in rhythm. Her knees began to buckle, he held her around the waist with his left arm, but never stopped his circular massaging of her clit.

"YES! THERE" She shouted.

She was lost in orgasmic oblivion… she didn't care. She began to shudder, shake. Her hips flailing to and fro… he rubbed faster, harder. She wailed and moaned - the sounds she made surprising her. She lost all sensation except for the pleasure building between her thighs. Suddenly, she was spent, finished. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, and nearly collapsed.

He lowered her to her knees in the tub, and chuckled.

"So… you, ah… liked that?" He asked, still chuckling.

She nodded her head, unable to respond, still gasping for breath. In a moment, she'd settled down enough to turn around, still on her knees.

"I see you're pretty happy… need some attention?" She asked his erection.

She looked up at Freddie, grinned and lightly flicked the head of his cock with her tongue. He gasped, and then whimpered. She slowly licked from the base of his cock to the head and back again. The grunts and moans he was making turning her on more and more. She deep throated him a few times while listening to his breathing… not wanting him to go over the edge yet.

He stopped her.

"No… wait…" He panted as he stepped out of the tub.

Helping her stand, he guided her to the bed… both of them dripping wet, neither caring. She sat on the edge, and began to slide back further onto the bed, to make room for him.

He stopped her.

He knelt down by the side of the bed, and pulled her back to the edge. She knew where this was going, and was actually a bit nervous. Sex with Lucas had never 'gone here'. He was more of a 'wham bam' guy… this was new territory. Freddie spread her legs and began to gently rub her folds. She had been watching, but as soon as this happened, her head flew back and she moaned loudly.

Freddie chuckled.

He spread her lips apart with the fingers of his left hand, and began a circular rubbing motion on her now erect clit.

She screamed his name, and moaned.

Her hips began rocking back and forth. Freddie continued the clit massage… then suddenly stopped. Her lust clouded mind screamed in agony at the loss of contact… until his tongue replaced his finger. The sensation was indescribable. Her entire being, every breath, every thought, was now centered on her pussy and his tongue.

She gasped, and began panting and grunting.

He licked her pussy from bottom to top, then spread her lips again, and began licking her clit.

She began thrashing about on the bed, grunting in time with his licking. He held her down with his arm, and continued for a few moments more, until he sucked her clit into his mouth.

She. Went. Wild.

She moaned, screamed, sat up slightly and grabbed his head, pressing him into her heat. He sucked her clit relentlessly while simultaneously grazing it lightly with his teeth. He stuck his finger in her and began rubbing while applying pressure just behind her clit.

Her body turned into Mount Vesuvius. She flopped back, releasing his head and screamed-groaned-grunted. This climax was like nothing she had ever experienced. She lay still for a few moments, trying to catch her breath. Shortly, she realized Freddie had stood up, and was laughing while sneezing repeatedly.

"Damn!" He laughed. "You came up my nose!"

* * *

Stay tuned for chapter 13!

Also, watch for the soon to be posted next chapter of my story;

**The Apartment**

pigwiz

-xxx-


	13. Chapter 13

Until You're Mine Again

Chapter 13

* * *

Stupid fucking airport. Stupid fucking taxi service taking for-goddamn-ever. Stupid fucking San Diego. Stupid fucking everything.

Kris sat outside the nearly deserted San Diego airport, wrapped up in a long sweater over her yoga pants and a tiny tank top that made her tits look great. She glared daggers at every man that allowed their eyes to linger on her for longer than three seconds and licked her lips obscenely at every woman who glared at her disapprovingly. She raised her cigarette to her lips and took a long drag, letting the smoke drift out of her nostrils. She checked her phone; it had been nearly an hour since she called the fucking taxi guy to come get her. She didn't give a flying fuck that it was one in the morning, just like she didn't care that she had just thrown down five bills for the nearly red eye flight to Cali-fucking-fornia.

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Fucking California with its fucking heat and its fucking smog and its fucking little bitches named Sam - who thought they could sleep with her fucking husband. Kris knew exactly what _she_ was. Yes, she fucked everything that walked, but what the hell did Freddie care? She at least had the common fucking courtesy to make sure Freddie never found out about any of it, and quite frankly what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. She did pledge herself to him for eternity, and she meant it, kinda… just because she took a few detours on the way didn't mean she wouldn't be there to meet him when he got home.

But this bastard… the stupid motherfucker…

Leaving his emails open, openly texting her at dinner, leaving to California, on the other side of the goddamn country just so he could fucking sleep with her? Damn he never worked this hard to have sex with her, and she was his wife for fucks sake. Kris snarled inwardly and threw her cigarette to the pavement, stomping on it with her flip flop clad foot. She looked around her just before storming away from the airport. She stopped, turned and yelled back at the taxi desk to pleasantly tell them that they can take all their damn taxi's and "best service in San Diego" and shove it all up their loose overworked asses.

She kept her phone in her hand, waiting for it to ring, almost daring Freddie to answer her texts from earlier, and face her like the man he claimed to be. She didn't know what she would do to him when she finally got hold of him, but she knew she was going to rip that Sam bitch to fucking shreds. And maybe beat the shit out of Freddie too, or at least kick him in the balls as hard as she fucking could, just to remind him who those balls rightfully belonged to.

She found herself officially lost once she left the airport. The street lights were fighting a losing battle with the dark, and there was only the occasional bum littering the street. She sighed in frustration. This was all fucking Freddie's fault. She was lost on the outskirts of San Di-fucking-ego at one in the fucking morning with nothing on her but her cell phone and a pack of cigarettes. She ran her hands through her hair and turned down a random street, still fuming as she stumbled across a brightly lit building, standing out amongst the dark and sketchy looking neighbor hood.

Fuck it, she thought, crossing the street and swinging into the bar, slipping off her sweater and straightening her shoulders as she strutted towards the bar stools, feeling every eye on her. She casually flipped off the idiot who whistled lowly from the pool tables. She knew she was a bombshell, and it's not like she blamed these poor losers for staring, but it was still funny that these fucks thought they had a shot with her. She was here for one man and one man alone, and she was going to get him back, dead or alive.

"A shot of Makers Mark, and another of Smirnoff, straight." She called down to the bartender, raising her eyebrows challengingly when he gave her a skeptical look before turning and pouring her the drinks. She rolled her eyes at his back, as he picked up her twenty from the bar. She dropped her sweater onto the stool next to her, slamming her phone down and idly thinking that she probably should have put on a bra before jumping on the plane.

"Those are mighty strong drinks, there." A voice to her left caught her attention as its owner dropped into the stool next to her. She turned her head and looked over her new companion. He was fairly good looking, her first thought was that he reminded her of Freddie, with his thick brown hair and slightly slanted brown eyes, except her new friend was slightly less built, with a slightly seedier look about him. He flashed her the best grin he could, that she refused to return. Instead she turned to thank the bartender as he sat down the two shot glasses in front of her.

"Well I'm a big girl; I think I can handle it." She said lowly, lifting her glass of vodka and downing it in two gulps, slamming the glass down before washing away the taste with a sip of her Makers Mark.

Her new friend seemed impressed; his grin grew wider as he watched her down her drink. His gaze crept over her lewdly. "I bet you could handle a lot of things like a big girl." He motioned the bartender for an identical order to hers, his eyes never leaving her.

Kris finally turned in her seat, glaring at this idiot over the rim of her glass as she continued to sip her drink. She took another sip and sat the glass down. Leaning forward and looking him dead in the eye before answering him; "As a matter of fact I can, but if you think you can provide me with such an experience, I'm going to inform you now that you have no standing chance in hell. I'm here on pure business, and I don't have time for little boys like you." She snarled, looking up as the bartender set down her companions' drinks. She motioned for another vodka.

The guy laughed, actually laughed and Kris was about four seconds away from punching him in his self satisfied face when he shook his head. "Alright, you got me, but I've been drinking and was just kinda hoping you'd show me what was under that top. Truth is I know it can't happen." He raised his left hand to reveal a platinum wedding band.

Kris's second drink came, while she drained her Makers Mark. She snorted and lifted up her own left hand, showing him her own simple ring and seemingly earning her new friends amusement, "I myself have entered the inconvenient imprisonment of marriage." She said sarcastically as she sipped her drink.

The guy lifted up his own drink and sighed, shaking head and drinking it slowly. "Yeah, it's all fun and games until someone decides to break the rules."

Kris lifted an eyebrow at his cryptic wording and looked at him out of her peripheral vision. "Yeah I suppose you could put it that way."

The guy chuckled and set his drink down, leaning his elbows on the bar and turning his head to look at her. "Where is your husband tonight anyways? It's not like a married woman to wander into a bar in the middle of the night without a bra on." He smirked at her.

Kris rolled her eyes. "I could ask you the same thing."

"My wife, I'm assuming she's somewhere in San Francisco, maybe in a hotel somewhere, fucking some dead piece of shit named Freddie." The guy said, his expression darkening as his hands tightened into fists on the bartop.

Kris froze, her hand still an inch away from where she was going to lift her drink and her mouth falling open. Freddie?

"Well that's my answer, where's yours?" He asked her, seemingly oblivious to Kris's sudden revelation.

"My husband is, I can only assume, in a hotel room in San Francisco, fucking some whore named Sam." Kris tried, watching her friend for his expression, a grin spreading over her face as she watched the dumbstruck horror she felt a second ago creep over his face.

"Sam?" The guy repeated, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"Freddie." She confirmed, turning back and taking another drink.

The guy clenched his jaw, nodding to himself before looking up at her and extending a hand. "I'm Lucas."

Kris smiled tightly, reaching for his hand and shaking it, "Kris."

Lucas grinned and looked her up and down and seemed to reevaluate her. "So what was your plan? Why are you in San Diego? I'm here since it was the only flight to California that wasn't overbooked"

Kris shrugged. "No idea, and same reason."

Lucas grinned wider and scooted his stool closer to her, swirling his drink around with his finger. "Well lucky for you I have some ideas."

* * *

WOO HOO!

A new chapter!

Nope, I am not abandoning this story! It just may seem like it!

Watch for updates for 'The Apartment' soon.


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